


The Crystal Sky

by MrGreekzies



Series: World's End [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bisexual Male Character, Crime Fighting, Gen, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Mythology - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence, but i encourage you to read anyway, but seriously guys this is so violent, i hope it's not too violent though, i mean i'd like to think it's good, idk if this is okay, you know like posting things that have no relation to any fandom, you might like it who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 146,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5926519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrGreekzies/pseuds/MrGreekzies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trope of going from zero to hero in a matter of hours may seem overdone--but at this point, though unexpected, it's a part of Ethan Locke's life. And as for battling ancient mythological deities, traversing the world in search of powerful relics to be used against a great and terrible evil, and learning to channel his own innate ability for magic? Well, one could say he wasn't quite expecting that, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Ordinary Life

Ethan Locke ran for his life through the thick fog of the forest.

His heart pounded, sweat poured down his forehead, and every muscle in his body was screaming at him to stop and rest. But he couldn’t. Not while the snake was still chasing him. 

He risked a glance back. Sure enough, it was still there, slithering over tree roots and fallen branches with ease, pursuing him relentlessly. It was gargantuan, twice the length and five times the width of an anaconda. Its mouth was open, baring its fangs at Ethan as it hissed and spat venom that singed the ground everywhere it flew. 

And the worst part were its eyes. A deep, evil red, they filled Ethan with such a primal fear that another burst of adrenaline kicked in, and he surged forward.

Ahead of him, Ethan could see his destination. It was just a blip in the distance, too far away to make out clearly, but Ethan knew what it was. It was what he’d been running for this whole time; what he always ran for. A tree, old and gnarled, jutting out of the ground, with a shimmering golden crown hanging from its top branch. If Ethan could reach the crown, the snake would stop chasing him. He didn’t know he knew; he just did. 

And so, he ran. Sometimes Ethan felt like he would never stop running. But, whenever he got tired, all he had to do was look back at the snake, and that was enough to keep him going. He was so terrified of it, because somehow, he knew that it wanted to kill him, and it would never rest until it did.

Ethan made it a few hundred more yards before he got tired again. He glanced back, and, sure enough, the mere sight of the snake’s massive size and acid venom and vile, hateful eyes renewed his energy reserves. But this time was different. Because this time, the snake spoke to him.

_“You believe you can play the hero, Ethan Locke.”_

Ethan paled, turned back, and kept running. He didn’t know he knew it was the snake’s voice in his head. But it was. It was female, but just barely so. It sounded like a woman who had been smoking cigarettes and gargling with gravel for decades. It was a terrible, grating voice, echoing throughout Ethan’s head. And it wouldn’t shut up.

_“You believe you can defeat me and my armies of chaos. Perhaps you believe nothing and that I am nothing more than a figment of your diseased mind. I assure you, Ethan Locke, I am quite real, and you will live to regret ever thinking otherwise.”_

Of to Ethan’s left, another, smaller serpent slithered out of the trees and joined the chase. This one looked like a regular (albeit large) snake, but it chased after him with the same vigor as the first snake. Ethan’s eyes widened, and he kept running.

 _“The Chevaliers will come for you, Ethan Locke. And when they do, you will fight, whether you like it or not,”_ the voice continued. _“You will come far. You will be able to feel Victory setting the laurels upon your head. But I will snatch them away at the final, darkest hour, and the world shall fall beneath my power as I chew the meat from your bones.”_

Then it laughed; an awful, raspy sound that sounded like metal scraping against concrete. Ethan leapt over a root and, suddenly, a crow descended from the tree above him and attacked, cawing and nipping ruthlessly at his head. Ethan yelped in pain and tried to brush it away, but to no avail. Great. Another bloodthirsty animal that wouldn’t leave him alone.

The tree with the crown was so close. Ethan could practically feel his hands tightening around its golden plating, banishing the snake so far away that it could never hurt him again.

Against his better instincts, Ethan reached out in anticipation. But then, something big and strong—something humanoid—reached out from his right, grabbed his wrist, and twisted.

Ethan cried out as this new enemy, whatever it was, used his momentum against him and flipped him. He landed on the ground, dazed and in pain, as the humanoid figure towered over him. It was wrapped in shadows; Ethan couldn’t make out anything about it. But, as it raised its hands high over its head, Ethan was terrified to see that it was holding a long, curved dagger.

The big snake appeared at the figure’s side, its red eyes boring into Ethan’s soul and paralyzing him with fear. _“Time to wake up at last, Ethan Locke,”_ it taunted. _“Fourteen years is long enough for this sort of torment. But fret not; you and I will meet again quite soon. And that is not a promise. It is a threat.”_

The figure brought the knife down. And Ethan awoke in a cold sweat.

He had to take a few moments to reassure himself that he was, in fact, in his bed, and not about to die in some foggy forest in the middle of nowhere. Once he knew for certain that he was safe, he allowed himself to relax. But the dream still deeply unsettled him.

Not like it was anything new. At twenty-two, Ethan could pretty much remember every dream he had ever dreamt since around the age of eight. All of them had been pretty much exactly the same as the one he’d just had. They were routine at this point—something he’d come used to, as twisted as it was to get used to nightly dreams about a giant snake trying to kill you. But that didn’t make them any less unnerving.

Ethan could even remember the first dream, the one at the beginning of the many to come: he had been trying to climb a tree because there was a shiny crown at the top, and he wanted the crown. But there was a snake at the bottom of the tree, nipping at him and trying to knock him down. By no means a nightmare, but still disconcerting. Ethan had woken up feeling strange after that particular dream. Not, like, strange strange, like there was something wrong with him, but he mostly felt like something wasn’t quite right. 

And then, of course, the dreams hadn’t really changed after that. Well, the details had been different, but two things had remained the same: Ethan was trying to get to the crown, but the snake was chasing him and trying to stop him from getting to it. The settings changed a lot—forest, tundra, and sometimes even a volcano—but the strangest one was an ocean. It was the rarest one, too. 

There was a storm, and the waves were whipping wildly around Ethan, pushing him down and drowning him, but he was always trying to swim towards a rock jutting out of the ocean, with a tree growing on the rock and the crown at the top of the tree. But, along with the waves and the storm trying to bring him down, there was the snake beneath him, biting at his ankles and trying to drag him under. 

But this wasn’t any normal kind of snake. Whenever lightning struck the water (it never hurt Ethan, but rather gave him a slight tingling sensation), the undersea world below him lit up, and Ethan could see the snake clearly, only it was a thousand times bigger, its hateful red eyes a thousand times scarier as it tried to snap him in its jaws and swallow him whole.

Ethan realized that his alarm was blaring next to him, jolting him out of his thoughts. He reached over and slammed the off button, suddenly afraid that he had woken Robert. But Robert’s sheets were rumpled and empty, a good sign that Ethan’s roommate had already left for class. 

That was better for Ethan, anyway. Robert was beginning to get a little bit annoying. He wouldn’t shut up about this girl he’d met in his World Culture Studies class, Tara McCarthy. He kept saying he was in love with her. Ethan suspected that he mostly just wanted to get into her pants. Shame, really. Tara was a pretty cool girl, from what Ethan knew of her. Robert was kinda sleazy and, in his whirlwind tenure of four years at Yale University undergrad, had become practically the reigning sensei in the art of “love em and leave em.” 

Ethan went through his morning routine with a vague feeling of boredom, his mind mostly on that night’s dream. It was really sticking with him. He thought about it the entire time he was showering, because Ethan usually found that the shower was the best place to think about things. 

This dream had been unusually divergent from the norm. Usually the snake didn’t really talk much, save for a few frantic cries whenever Ethan got close to the crown. But this time it had really had something to say. Plus, there was the new presence of those other creatures—the smaller snake, the crow, and the shadowy figure. They’d never been there before. What made this time different?

As Ethan brushed his teeth, he remembered some of the things Dr. Sharman, his psychology professor and academic advisor at Yale University, had taught him: the human psyche was vastly complex, and almost all of it came together in dreams to form one huge cluster of hopes and fears alike, all manifested as physical things. 

The more he thought about it, the more he thought that the snake—and perhaps the sudden arrival of its three helping hands—was a representation of the resentment he’d always felt towards the dreams, and that whole speech had been his brain trying to tell him that, try as he might, he’d never get rid of them. And although that disheartened him, after fourteen years of it, Ethan hadn’t really thought otherwise.

Fourteen years…that was something else the snake had said. _Fourteen years is long enough for this sort of torment._ What did that mean? It sort of implied that the dreams, which had gone on for fourteen years now, were coming to a close. But then Ethan’s interpretation of the dream didn’t make any sense. Why would his brain contradict itself like that?

And there were other things the snake had said that didn’t really fit with Ethan’s interpretation, either. _The Chevaliers will come for you._

Who were the Chevaliers? Ethan had supposed that maybe the Chevaliers were people who were going to help him get rid of the dreams, or at least try, because that made for a nice segue into the part about the laurels. But with all the contradiction that was going on in the snake’s words, doubt had begun to seep in Ethan’s mind. Maybe the Chevaliers were something entirely different. 

Ethan knew from four years of French in high school, and then a halfhearted advanced course in his freshman year of college, that Chevaliers was French for “knights.” Maybe they were—and this was crazy—literal knights? Like, with the metal suit, the broadsword, the whole nine yards?

Ethan spat his toothpaste out into the sink and shook his head, trying to shake out the onslaught of thoughts and theories that were bombarding his tired brain. He didn’t need any of this stuff, not now. He had a psychology class to go to, and a final the next day to prepare for. Dr. Sharman had done a good job going over most of the stuff they needed to know, but Ethan knew he had to do some side work on his own as well. And that was never going to get done if he didn’t: a) stop thinking about all this stuff, and b) actually get to class on time. 

Ethan glanced at the clock. Eight-forty-seven. Class started at nine. If he didn’t leave soon, he’d be late.

He finished the rest of his morning routine in a whirlwind of clothes, deodorant, and gathering papers. He glanced out the window a quick second before leaving his dorm room. It was overcast, the clouds threatening rain. Ethan cursed under his breath. He hoped it didn’t start raining in the middle of his walk to the psych classroom. He was so not in the mood to have to sit there for an hour and a half, soaking wet.

As he rushed out of his dorm building, Ethan felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Hoisting his backpack up onto his shoulder, he dug into his pocket and fished around for a few seconds (it was hard to grab hold of it while he was walking) before pulling it out. A text from his mother. Ethan opened it.

_Gd lck on ur psych final tmrw! Ur gnna do gr8! Xoxo, <3 u! –mom_

Ethan shook his head at the atrocity that had vomited onto his phone screen. His mother had only recently discovered texting, and she was making the most of abbreviations, even going so far as to make up her own. Ethan had to make time to set her straight on what was viable and what was not. For instance: some people might be so inclined to read “Lck” as “lick”, and that would likely lead to some unfortunate confrontations.

He resolved to be nice about it, though. His mother had done everything for him after his dad had walked out shortly before his dreams began (many therapists had theorized that that was the cause of them; Ethan supposed they were right). The leaving of a prominent loved one combined with the beginning of terrifying dreams he didn’t understand had made for a very screwed-up eight-year-old. His mother, bless her soul, had been with him every step of the way, both caring for him and sacrificing her life so he could have a more prosperous one than hers. At least, that was what she’d always said, anyway, especially on the day Ethan had been accepted into Yale. He’d always had to remind her that raising him had been just as prosperous a life, if not more so.

The rain had just started when Ethan slipped through the crack between the enormous oak doors that were always so heavy that he could barely open them. Ethan rushed down the long, tackily tiled hall, cursing the fact that the psych room was at the other end of the damn building. 

But when he got into the room, he was both surprised and disheartened at the fact that there was nobody actually in there except for his professor, Dr. Sharman, who appeared to be playing Space Invaders on his laptop and getting very into it. 

Dr. Sharman looked up as he heard Ethan enter, and an enthusiastic smile split across his face.

“Ethan!” he said, quickly shutting the browser, despite his being about to win. “What are you doing here?”

Ethan cocked an eyebrow and gestured around at the empty room. “There’s a psych final tomorrow?”

“Oh, right,” Dr. Sharman said, sounding very flustered. He stood up, his eyes glancing around the room at various things—the empty seats, the chalkboard, Ethan. “It’s just, nobody ever shows up the day before the psych final. Everyone spends the whole day studying, you know? Like, why have me teach it to you when you can teach it to yourself in a way that you’re more likely to absorb it?” He must’ve seen the confused expression on Ethan’s face. “Oh, yeah, I know, it’s an odd way to look at it. But if you think about it, and use psychology—” he winked “—it kinda makes sense.”

Ethan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” He pointed behind him to the door. “Should I go, then?”

Dr. Sharman shrugged back. “If you want. I won’t stop you. Although try not to do too much studying, because between you and me, I feel like you’ve got this stuff down pat.” He smiled. “You’ll do just fine tomorrow.”

Ethan smiled back. “Thanks, Dr. Sharman. Although…I do have one question.”

Dr. Sharman sat back down. “Shoot.”

Ethan crossed over to his desk, placing his notebook down and flipping open to the page he’d dog-eared for reference. “Could you give me the proper definition of generativity? I don’t think I wrote it down right.”

“Sure.” He cleared his throat, and went right on, without even having to look at anything. “Generativity: a commitment beyond one’s self and one’s partner to family, work, society, and future generations; typically, a crucial step in development in one’s 30s and 40s.” Ethan was grateful for the fact that Dr. Sharman paused periodically to let Ethan write it all down.

When he was finished, Ethan shoved his pen back into his pocket and closed up his notebook, tucking it under his arm. He grinned at Dr. Sharman. “Okay, thanks, Dr. Sharman. Really needed that.”

Dr. Sharman nodded. “Anytime.”

And with that, Ethan was gone. Truth be told, he was secretly glad that he didn’t have to sit there and keep learning, or study stuff he already knew backwards and forwards. He could relax. The day before finals, and he was probably the only student on Yale campus that could relax. Ethan grinned to himself. It was gonna be a good day. 

He jogged back to his dorm room in the rain. It was coming down pretty hard now, and Ethan could just feel his clothes getting soaked all the way down to the core. Ugh. He would have to shower again once he got back, and hang his clothes up on the dorm building’s indoor clothesline. That thing was always full because nobody ever took their clothes back down. He hoped he could get a good spot where he could fit his clothes on and not have to cover up somebody else’s with his damp ones.

Ethan practically ripped open the doors to his dorm building, although technically it was a “residential college”, according to Yale. Ethan hated that name. It was so pretentious. Why not call it a dorm building, like every other college in the universe?

He wandered around for a bit, making sure to stop by the clothesline and see if there was a good spot for his clothes (thank Jesus, there was), and eventually found his way back to his room. 

Ethan was surprised to see the door slightly ajar. He could’ve sworn he’d closed it all the way. Maybe Robert was already back from his World Studies class. As sleazy as the guy was, he was book-smart, too. Maybe he was in the same situation as Ethan. Ethan smiled to himself. They could hang out and revel in their relaxation together.

Ethan pushed open the door and nearly fainted from all the blood. Splattered across the walls, the windows, the carpet, the beds, everything. And in the middle of it all was Robert, splayed on the ground spread-eagled and gutted like a fish. Intestines were strung across the carpet, and his mouth was open, frozen in a scream that had never escaped. His glassy eyes were bulging, and maggots were already crawling around in the enormous wound. 

Ethan gagged and vomited, right there on the floor. The sight alone was enough to terrify him, but the smell was overwhelming. And seeing his vomit mixed in with some of the blood didn’t help much. Putting his hand to his mouth partially in shock, and partially in a vain attempt to keep more vomit from coming out, he stumbled backwards, suppressing the urge to shriek like a little girl.

And then two strong hands grabbed him and pulled him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So this is my first post on this site, and I have to say, I'm a bit nervous at posting something that has zero relation to any fandoms on here, because from what I've seen there's nothing but fandoms on here. So like...idk if that's okay?? I mean it's probably allowed but idk how much people will like that. But seeing as though nobody really ever gets views when they post under the genre "no fandom" or "original work"...I doubt this'll get much attention lol.
> 
> But regardless, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! I hope you enjoyed it. I'm a relatively new writer who's looking to get my work out there, and since I know a lot of people like to use this site to read other people's work, I figured, why not? So this is the first chapter of what will hopefully be a long series to come, assuming I get enough positive feedback that motivates me into continuing it.
> 
> So please, let me know what you think! And thanks again for reading. Have a nice day! -Greek


	2. The Happening

Ethan’s nose and mouth were covered. He couldn’t breathe. He kicked and struggled, not afraid of screaming now, and trying to bite his assailant’s palm. But whoever it was, their hand was cupped in such a way that Ethan couldn’t get at it, but his screams were still drowned out. Whoever this was, they knew what they were doing. 

Finally, Ethan managed to give his attacker a good, sharp kick to the shins. He briefly regretted it, because what if it was somebody he knew trying to get him away from the scene of the crime so he wouldn’t freak out? But then the person—a male—cried out in pain, and let go of Ethan instinctually. Ethan rushed forward and whipped around to see who it was.

It most certainly was not somebody he knew. It was a man who appeared to be in his mid-to-late forties, and he was dressed in what looked to Ethan like the remnants of a tux. Black formal pants, a white dress shirt tucked into it, but with the top button undone and no bowtie, no belt. His shiny black hair was neatly combed, and there was barely a single scuff on his dress shoes. To Ethan, he looked like a male model, or maybe someone who had just come from a fancy dinner party. Ethan wasn’t quite sure. But whoever it was, he didn’t really feel like being around him at the moment.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, concerned. 

Ethan took another step back, glaring at the man suspiciously. “Yeah.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I scared you,” the man said, taking a step forward. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Ethan took another step back. “What, by grabbing me from behind and trying to suffocate me? How is that supposed to make me okay?”

“Because…” the man trailed off. And then, suddenly his demeanor changed; he went from concerned and helpful to cold and wicked in the blink of an eye. “Ah, screw it. This ‘nice’ shit is too hard. Let’s just get to the killing, huh?”

Ethan’s eyes went wide as the man quickly and suddenly drew a bloody dagger from behind his back. The man swung the blade at Ethan faster than his eyes could comprehend, and Ethan instinctually moved back. Suddenly there was pain on Ethan’s shoulder, and he looked down to see a cut, oozing blood. He realized that if he hadn’t moved, the dagger would’ve cut his neck rather than his shoulder. He also realized that this man had probably killed Robert, and that if Ethan didn’t start running, then he was going to be next.

So he started running.

As his footsteps thumped wildly on the carpeted floor, Ethan heard the man call after him, “Oh, so now you’re making me chase you? Way to be difficult!” A brief thought flashed through Ethan’s head about how that was not how a normal serial killer would react to their victims starting to run in a relatively public place. But then again, what did Ethan know about serial killers? He had only just met one.

When Ethan rounded the corner at the end of the hall, the sound of the man’s running footsteps faded away. Ethan allowed himself to hope for a moment that the man had, for whatever reason, stopped chasing him, and that Ethan had gotten away. For a split second, Ethan was filled with relief. 

And then he turned around and ran smack into the guy. Ethan took a step back, stunned and horrified. It was physically impossible that the man could’ve gotten around from where he had been to where they were now in such little time. And faster than Ethan, too. How the hell had that happened?

Ethan didn’t have much time to wonder; the man took advantage of his shock and grabbed him, pulling Ethan into a painful headlock. Ethan cried out and tried to kick his attacker in the shins again, but the guy was too smart for that this time. He pulled Ethan up sharply, nearly snapping Ethan’s neck, and Ethan was horrified to find that his feet weren’t on the ground anymore. This guy was strong. And he was about to kill Ethan.

He could feel the tears already welling up in his eyes. His mother would never know who had killed him, or why…and for that matter, neither would Ethan.

The man raised his dagger high, and said, “No hard feelings, Ethan.” How did he know Ethan’s name? “It’s just, I have a job to do. I hope you understand.” 

Ethan did not understand. He didn’t understand any of this. Only two or three minutes ago, he’d been worrying about getting the water pressure in the shower right and putting his clothes on the clothesline in time before the good spot was taken. And now he was about to die.

When the blade was plunged into Ethan’s stomach, he didn’t really feel it at first. It must have hit a major nerve, because instead of pain, there was just an odd numbness slowly seeping upwards towards his heart. The man let go of Ethan, and he fell to the floor, and then Ethan felt it. White-hot, searing pain, seemingly shooting all around his body, and yet it was still numb around the wound. It was an odd feeling, and one that was hardly pleasurable.

Suddenly, a girl appeared around the corner. Through the haziness that was slowly overtaking Ethan’s vision, he vaguely recognized her. Her name was Melanie, or something like that. She was in his psych class. Her eyes widened as she saw what was happening, and Ethan wanted to yell at her to run or she’d die too, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have the strength anymore. 

But then, Melanie did something unexpected. She cried out and charged the man, and Ethan was stunned to see a powerful light emerge from her hands and blast the man back. He roared as he flew through the air and toppled over the edge of the banister, and Ethan heard a sickening crunch as his body hit the ground. 

The girl rushed over to Ethan and rolled him over so she could inspect the wound. Ethan tried to thank her, as weak as he was, but she just shushed him and said angrily, “No. Shut up. I can’t believe you went and got yourself stabbed, you goddamn idiot. Now I have to heal you. I hate healing, I’m absolute shit at it.”

Ethan wanted to ask what she meant, and why she was so angry at him, but she just shushed him again. Then she placed her hands on his stomach and closed her eyes, concentrating. All of a sudden a brilliant light began to flow from her hands, and Ethan’s pain was replaced with a dreamlike warmth. It lasted only for a few seconds, and then it was gone. Ethan was also surprised to notice that the wound on his stomach was gone as well. 

“How—how did you do that?” Ethan asked in disbelief. 

The girl held out her hand to Ethan, and he took it. She helped him up and said, “Don’t worry about it, just be glad I got it right. Now come on, follow me.”

“Wait,” Ethan said, putting out a hand. She stopped and looked at him, irritated. “Calm down, I just wanted to thank you, Melanie. You know, for saving my life, but I guess that’s no big deal, right?” he finished sarcastically.

“It’s a bigger deal than you think, moron,” she said, tugging on his arm to pull him forward. “And my name’s not Melanie. It’s Malina. Now come on, let’s go.”

Ethan blinked. “Malina. Right. Sorry.”

Malina rolled her eyes. “Are your feet cemented to the floor or something? Or are you just too stupid to process the phrase let’s go?”

Ethan didn’t really feel like being insulted yet again, so he decided to go with this Malina girl. He felt a bit guilty about not even being able to remember her name, considering she had just saved his life. Although—

“How did you do that?” Ethan asked breathlessly as Malina pulled him along, down the stairs and into the main lobby of the dorm building. 

“Do what?”

“That—thing,” Ethan stuttered, unable to describe what he had seen. “That light you made that killed that guy. And the—the healing thing. How did you do that stuff?”

Malina shoved open the front doors and dragged Ethan out into the rain. “You’ll find out soon enough. And by the way, the guy’s not dead. Which is kind of why we’re running. Or have you not figured that out yet?”

Ethan blinked again. Now he was very confused, and also wet. “What do you mean he’s not dead? He went over the edge of the banister, and I heard him hit the floor. That noise—nobody’s gonna survive that. And what the hell do you mean I’ll find out later? And why did that guy kill Robert? And who even are you, because if I was going to college with Supergirl, I feel like I would’ve known about it.”

Malina groaned. “Ugh, you have so many questions. Why can’t you just wait until we get to safety to start drilling me?”

Ethan stopped, yanking on her arm so she’d stop too. He didn’t care if he was standing in the middle of pouring rain. His head was finally starting to clear up, and now that it was, he wanted answers. 

“No. Now, you listen here, Malina, or whoever you are. I just found my roommate eviscerated in the middle of our dorm room, his killer tried to kill me too and actually stabbed me, and now even though you killed him through some freaky voodoo shit he’s apparently not actually dead, and is probably still gonna try to kill me. And I have a psychology final tomorrow, too, so I’m really not in the mood for all this cryptic bullshit.” She opened her mouth in protest, but Ethan kept going before she could get a word in. “I don’t care how long it takes, but please, just give me something.”

Malina was quiet for a few moments as she visibly debated it. And then she sighed, shrugged, and said, “Okay, fi—”

And then the rain turned into quarter-sized hail.

Ethan cried out in pain as several of the ice chunks smashed into his shoulder, sending him reeling. A sizeable piece bonked him on the head shortly after, and suddenly Ethan was very dizzy. He stumbled around, desperately holding his arms over his head and just getting a crapload of cuts and bruises all over them for his troubles. He looked over at Malina, who was strangely fine.

“Come on!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get to shelter!”

She rolled her eyes, and grabbed him by the shoulders, screaming into his face. “No, we don’t, because this isn’t real, you moron! It’s not hail! It’s still rain! Snap out of it!”

Then Malina slapped him, and suddenly the hail was rain again. Ethan blinked a third time. The change had happened just as quickly as it had the first time. “What the hell?” Ethan asked incredulously as he noticed that all of his injuries were also gone. “Malina, what just happened?”

“Sehaqeq happened,” she said simply. “Told you he wasn’t dead. Now come on, we need to keep moving if we’re gonna stay alive. But I promise you, all will be revealed once we get away. Now, come on!”

She tugged on his arm, and this time, Ethan was more than happy to go. But as they ran, his mind drifted to what she had said. Sehaqeq happened. Who was Sehaqeq? Was it that guy? She said he wasn’t dead, so Sehaqeq had to be the guy. That was a pretty weird name, though. And how in hell did he change the weather like that? And how did Malina change it back? And what happened to the wounds the hail had given him? Needless to say, by that point, Ethan was beyond confused. 

After a few more moments of running, Ethan was surprised to find that Malina was leading him to where he had just come from: the psych building. “Why are we going there?” he shouted over a sudden clap of thunder. The rain was turning into a storm.

“You’ll see!” she shouted back.

Once they got there, Malina threw the doors open and pulled Ethan inside. Together, they ran down the hall, their shoes squeaking wildly on the tiled floor. A dull thrumming sound began on the other side of the doors. Ethan risked looking back and was scared to see the wood splintering. Malina saw it too, raised her hand, and another burst of light shot out of her palm. The light streaked towards the doors and actually wrapped itself around the doors, solidifying once it was done into an amber-like casing. 

Ethan gawked. “What the hell?”

“It’s a little thing called magic, Ethan,” Malina said, tugging him forward from where he had stopped running. “You know, I really thought you would’ve figured it out by now.”

“Magic?” Ethan scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Magic isn’t real.”

Malina stopped and raised her eyebrows at him. “Ethan. Think long and hard for a moment. How many movies have you seen, or books have you read, where freaky supernatural stuff is happening, and somebody says magic isn’t real? What does that usually mean?”

Ethan blinked. “Um…I’ve seen a lot, I guess. And I don’t know, what does it mean?” he countered, hoping she’d finally give up some of her secrets.

But instead, she just pulled him forward again. “You’ve got such a big storm coming, it isn’t even funny.”

As Malina urged Ethan further down the hall, Ethan heard a roar of anger come from the other side of the doors, and then an enormous crash, and then he watched as part of the casing shattered. His eyes widened. Whoever Sehaqeq was, he was breaking down the door little by little, and Ethan wanted to be as far away as possible when he finally did.

Malina and Ethan kept running until they finally reached the end of the long hallway, and it finally clicked in Ethan’s head as to their destination: the psych room. He paled. Dr. Sharman was probably still in there. He didn’t want to drag his teacher into this. Dr. Sharman was the one teacher he’d ever had who he actually liked.

Ethan opened his mouth to warn Malina about Dr. Sharman, but before he could utter a single sound, Malina reared back and furiously kicked the doors open. She rushed in, and Ethan had no choice but to follow her. Looking around, Ethan was relieved to see that Dr. Sharman had left. Malina, however, was less so.

“Damn it!” she cried, kicking over Dr. Sharman’s chair in frustration. “He must’ve sensed Sehaqeq’s presence and bailed on us.”

“What?”

“He was our way out,” she explained, though not very well. “And now he’s gone. Ethan, I'm sorry, but you’ll have to make the portal.”

“What?”

Suddenly, there was an enormous boom, and the building shook a little. Ethan guessed that Sehaqeq was getting awfully close to breaking through the casing, if he hadn’t already. “Ethan, you’ve got to do as I say,” Malina said, crossing over to Ethan and taking his hands in hers. “You need to make the portal, and you need to do it now.”

“What portal?” Ethan asked, confused beyond measure. “And how come I have to make it? You’re the magic one.”

“I’m no good at healing, so healing you earlier and doing it right took up a lot of my magical energy,” she replied. “And I figured I’d probably have to heal you, so we had him stationed here so he could make the portal since I don’t have the reserves to make a portal to Rangiroa right now. It’s too far away.” She kicked the chair again. “But now he’s gone, so you have to do it.” 

“Rangiroa? What the hell is that?”

Malina took a step back, and took a moment to compose herself. Even she could tell that she wasn’t making any sense. When she was ready, she said, “Rangiroa is a tropical island in the Tuamotu Islands, which are a part of French Polynesia. There’s a sort of headquarters there, a place for people like us to train to fight people like Sehaqeq. I know it seems like a random place to set up a headquarters, but that’s exactly why we did; it’s completely isolated and unsuspecting.” She jabbed a finger in Ethan’s face. “And you need to make us a portal to there. Right now. Otherwise, Sehaqeq kills us both.”

Ethan couldn’t believe the pressure she was putting on him. “But Malina, you’re the one who can do magic. I can’t.” It dawned on Ethan how he was now able to so easily talk about magic, as if it had always been a part of his life. “So how the hell do you expect me to be able to open up a freaking portal to some random tropical island in French Polynesia that I’d never even heard of before until now?”

Malina sighed. “Because you _can_ do magic, you dimwit. Anybody can, really, but it takes years and years of training to focus your energy well enough. You, however, have an innate gift for it, the reason for which I promise you will be revealed to you later, because we really just don’t have the time right now.” She glanced at the doorway nervously. “I can try to walk you through this, but in the end it’s gotta be you.”

Ethan stepped away from her. “Really? You think I can do magic?”

“Ethan, I know you can.” Seeming hopeful, Malina walked over to the front of the room and pointed at the board. “Now, concentrate on this spot. Focus all of your energy into this one single spot. And have only one thought in your head: Rangiroa.”

Despite his deep misgivings about the whole thing, Ethan decided that he might as well try. After all, his day had been crazy enough. Why not add a little more crazy to the mix?

“This spot, Ethan. This spot and this spot only,” Malina drew a wide circle on the floor-length board with a piece of chalk. “Concentrate all of your energy into this circle.”

Ethan wasn’t sure how to do that, but he did as he was told. He stared at the circle as hard as he could, never breaking eye contact with it. He repeated the word “Rangiroa” over and over and over in his head, trying desperately to somehow will the portal into existence. 

But nothing was happening.

And then suddenly, there was a gargantuan cracking noise, and the entire building shook once with the strength of an earthquake. Ethan and Malina both fell, and Malina quickly shot a burst of light—magic?—towards the open doors, shutting them and sealing them with a line of the casing along the edges. But it was too late. Sehaqeq was in the building, and he would kill them both. Ethan had failed.

He could hear the man’s booming, evil laughter from out in the hall. Somewhere in his mind, Ethan vaguely registered that Malina was screaming at him to make the portal. The tiled floor was so cold and wet that it practically froze Ethan to the bone. Ethan was so afraid, he was pretty sure he’d pissed himself a little bit. And there the circle was, on the board, taunting him and his failure.

Even after the fact, Ethan wasn’t sure what the breaking point had been. It could have been any of those factors, or some combination thereof. But something snapped inside of him. His hand moved up off the ground as if it had a mind of its own. 

And then he was screaming, and then there was a dull throbbing starting in his fingers and shooting down his arm. It made him feel like he was about to lose the arm. And then, all of a sudden, a swirling, crackling, multicolored vortex blinked into being within the circle. 

Ethan couldn’t believe his eyes. Was that the portal? Had he done that? How had he done that? But he didn’t have much time to dwell on it, because the second the portal was up, Malina was on her feet and dragging Ethan into it. 

The last thing Ethan saw of his college, his old life, and his home, was Sehaqeq bursting through the doors. And then the portal closed up.

***

Traveling through the portal was an experience that Ethan did not cherish. 

An unpleasantly strong tingling broke open across his skin, quickly covering his entire body and making all his hairs stand on end. His gut was filled with that top-of-the-rollercoaster weightlessness that he’d never liked, and his mouth was suddenly very, very dry. Hot winds whipped around him as he shot forward at what seemed like the speed of light, making his eyes burn and completely ruining his new haircut.

And then, finally, it was over. The dark gray, smoky surroundings of the portal winked out, only to be replaced by blinding sunlight and pale white sand. Ethan was propelled face first into the sand, and he gagged as a lot of it went into his mouth. He looked up just in time to see Malina land gracefully on her feet, and the portal close up behind her. As Ethan spat out sand and tried to rub the burning sensation out of his eyes, Malina smirked and offered a hand to help him up. “Don’t worry about it,” she said once he was on his feet. “You get used to the traveling after a while. And you’ll get the hang of landing eventually.”

“You mean I have to do that again?” Ethan whined.

Malina looked at him, genuinely confused. “How else would you get anywhere?”

Ethan was stunned. “Oh, gee, I don’t know. Planes, trains, and automobiles? Maybe even walking?”

Malina waved a hand dismissively. “All of that stuff’s too slow. Portaling is much easier, trust me.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.” Then he stopped to get a good look at where they had emerged. They were on a tropical island, all right, and it was the most beautiful thing Ethan had ever seen. In addition to the warm sun—which was not so harsh now that Ethan’s eyes had adjusted—and white sand, the crystal blue waters of the Pacific Ocean lapped lazily up onto the shore before coasting away. A light breeze rustled through the big, cupped leaves of the sky-high palm trees, and somehow, even the vaguely threatening rocks poking out of the water further out into the water added to the serenity and beauty of the island. But more than anything, Ethan couldn’t believe that he had actually made the portal that had brought him and Malina there. Maybe he really did have power, after all. 

Ethan whistled appreciatively. “So this is Rangiroa?”

Malina nodded, grinning. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“That’s a little bit of an understatement.”

Now it was Malina’s turn to roll her eyes. “Well, come on. We can’t stay here too long, we gotta go.”

Ethan was suddenly filled with fear again. “Why? Is Sehaqeq gonna come after us?”

Malina shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. The portal closed before he could jump in after us, and besides, he didn’t know where we were going. We’re fine.”

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright, nice. So why do we have to hurry? Because honestly, I could just take a nap right here in the sand. I mean, sure, it’d be uncomfortable once I woke up, especially in the crotch area, but—”

“Ethan,” Malina said, stopping him before he went too far. “I’m sure you could, but now’s not the time for sleep. We need to get to HQ so you can be introduced to everyone and start your training and whatnot.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I also need to yell at Andrew for leaving us behind like that.”

“Oh, hey, I know an Andrew,” Ethan said, referring to Dr. Sharman. He started to laugh. “Hey, wouldn’t it be weird if it was the same Andrew?”

Malina looked at him strangely for a long time before saying, “Yeah. It would be pretty weird.” 

And then she started walking away from him, leaving Ethan no choice but to follow her. He was suddenly kind of freaked out by the way she’d looked at him. “Malina? Malina, wait. Is it the same Andrew? Malina!” But try as he might, she wouldn’t answer him, and only kept walking.

They walked down the beach for what seemed like hours until they finally reached what looked to Ethan like the dingy wooden hut of a local medicine man. He didn’t think it looked like anything important, but as they passed by it, Malina turned and walked right up to the door. “Wait, we’re going in there?” Ethan asked.

She nodded. “Yep. The entrance is in here. Now come on, you’re gonna wanna see this place.” Malina opened up the door—which was falling off its hinges, Ethan noticed—and stepped inside. Like most of the day had already gone, Ethan didn’t really have much choice but to follow her. 

The hut seemed like it was even smaller on the inside. There was absolutely nothing in the room, save for the occasional patch of mold growing on the walls. No furniture, no windows, no nothing. Then Ethan looked down and he saw that there was, in fact, a rug on the floor. He hadn’t seen it because it was so dirty, much like the rest of the hut.

“So what, does this one particular spot have, like, super powerful magic energy floating around it or something that we use to make a portal directly to wherever these headquarters are?” Ethan asked, looking around the hut.

Malina looked at him strangely again. “No.” She kicked aside the rug, revealing a trapdoor. “We take the ladder down to the first level of HQ. Duh.”

“Oh,” Ethan said quietly as Malina lifted the hatch open.

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Ethan, not everything is about magic.”

Ethan folded his arms across his chest and huffed, “Well, after today, you could’ve fooled me.”

Malina didn’t respond; she just started climbing down the ladder, leaving Ethan with—yet again—no choice but to follow. He was really starting to get sick of that.

Ethan slowly and carefully lowered himself into the trapdoor, making sure that his feet were firmly on the ladder as he began his descent. The ladder had rusted over long ago and yet a lot of it was chipped, as well as the paint, worn away from years and years of use. The shaft itself was practically pitch black, so Ethan was grateful for the fact that the hatch was still open, allowing light to stream in from outside of the hut, whose door was also still open. Ethan suddenly had a thought that if Sehaqeq had managed to follow them to Rangiroa, it would be awfully easy to find them, seeing as how everything was open and they hadn’t thought to wipe their footprints from the sand on the beach. Ethan found himself very much hoping that Sehaqeq hadn’t managed to follow them.

After a few minutes of climbing down (it was an awfully long ladder), Ethan heard the soft thumping sound of feet hitting the floor, meaning Malina had reached the bottom. A few seconds later, he did too. He watched as Malina pulled a lever on the wall, which both closed the hatch all the way back up at the top, and turned on the lights around them. “Okay,” Ethan said. “I was wondering what you were gonna do about the hatch being open.”

Malina nodded. “The door to the hut closes, too. And as for the rug—” she waved a hand “—it’s taken care of.”

Ethan arched an eyebrow. “Magic?”

“Okay, so maybe some things are all about magic.”

Ethan snickered and looked around in the long corridor they had climbed down into. It oddly reminded him of the psych building’s corridor, with its odd tiling and fluorescent lights. It was much shorter, however, and at the end of it, Ethan saw that there was a big metal door that looked like the entrance to a bank vault. Malina pushed past him and started walking towards it. Ethan assumed that the vault door was the entrance to this mysterious head-quarters, so he followed.

When they reached the door, Malina looked back at him. “You ready for this?”

Ethan shrugged. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because,” she said seriously, “your life is literally about to completely change. Once you go through this door, there’s no going back, Ethan. Because if you are who we think you are, then once you cross this threshold, your entire world becomes a fight for life over death, order over chaos, and good over evil. I need to know if you’re ready for that.”

Ethan studied her for a moment, unsure if she was kidding or not. But there was something in her face that told him she wasn’t; she meant every word she said. Ethan suddenly got very scared. Was he really ready for his life to change like that? Malina had told him that he had an innate gift for magic, and when he had created that portal back at Yale, he’d proven that. He’d seen magic firsthand besides the portal, and some guy named Sehaqeq had even tried to kill him, presumably because Ethan had this magic inside of him. If his life was about to become a whole lot more of that kind of stuff, then he really wasn’t sure if he was ready.

But Malina was wrong about one thing: she’d said that once he was through the door, there was no going back. But there was already no going back. Ethan’s roommate Robert was dead, violently murdered in their dorm room. Ethan was missing, and there was likely no sign of the killer. Add in to that that only one person had seen Ethan that day—Dr. Sharman—and things were quickly starting to look like Ethan had killed Robert and fled. The body had probably already been discovered, and Dr. Sharman already questioned. If people thought that Ethan was the killer, then there was no going back for him. Ethan’s old life, his home, his friends, his mother—they were all gone. The only life that awaited him anymore was this new, strange one filled with magic and those who could wield it.

So, whether he actually was ready or not, Ethan had to be. No matter what.

He realized that Malina was still waiting for an answer, so he nodded vigorously. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

She nodded back wordlessly and placed her palm on the door. That same soft golden light that she had always exhibited glowed from her hand once more, and Ethan heard the loud chunking sound of multiple locks unlocking all at once. And then the door swung open.

Ethan’s world would never be the same after that. And yet, he suddenly found himself ready to face it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say it with me, kids: Seh-HA-kek.
> 
> So I decided to post two chapters in one day, just in case if anybody actually reads this, they can have 2 chapters to read before I finish writing the third (I only have these two written so might as well post both of them at once). Not a whole lot to say about this, really, except that I don't know how regularly I'll be updating. Life is kind of a bitch so if this gets enough attention for me to be updating, it'll be sporadic at best. You've been warned.
> 
> Thanks for reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. Have a nice day! -Greek


	3. I Know The Truth

The headquarters of all things magic caught Ethan off-guard with how big it was. His first thought was that it must have been the size of several dozen whales. Seriously, the place was massive. The moment Ethan stepped through the vault door, he saw that the pit that the headquarters had been dug out into was circular, and the place itself was about six floors deep, with him and Malina being on the first. All over the different levels, Ethan watched as people hustled and bustled around. He heard Malina say from somewhere behind him, “Oh, hey! How’ve you been?”

Ethan turned to see a woman who, at first glance, appeared normal, approaching them from further down the corridor. She was wearing a plain faded pink T-shirt and mom jeans, with a worn-out pair of Converse on her feet. But her hair was done up strangely; it reminded Ethan of the classic Cleopatra style. She was carrying a multitude of scrolls in her hands and looked like she was struggling a bit with them. The woman set the scrolls down on the floor and she and Malina hugged. Malina stepped back, saw Ethan’s confusion, and said, “Oh, sorry. Ethan, this is Neith. Neith, this is Ethan.”

Neith stepped forward, holding her hand out and smiling. Ethan took her hand and shook it. There was something about her name that was bothering him, but he couldn’t quite place it. It sounded vaguely familiar; he just wasn’t sure where from. When it became evident that Ethan was staring at her, though not quite for the reason she likely thought he was staring at her for, he awkwardly said, “Hi.”

She kept smiling. “Hi.” Neith turned around and picked up the scrolls, saying to Malina, “Well, Malina, I’d just love to catch up, but I’ve gotta run. Sia needs these scrolls ASAP. And you know how she gets when she doesn’t get her scrolls.”

Malina laughed. “You know I do. Now go on, go on. I’ve gotta take Ethan down to meet Olorun anyway.”

“Oh, is he a new recruit?” Neith asked. Then she said, “Wait, duh. Of course he’s a new recruit. Otherwise, why would you have brought him here?” The two girls laughed. “I guess there’s a reason why I’m not the wisdom goddess, huh?”

Malina laughed again. “Oh, come on, you’re plenty smart, you’ve gotta give yourself more credit.” She said a few more things after that, but Ethan didn’t really register them because of something Neith had said: that she wasn’t a wisdom goddess. The word goddess had triggered something in the back of Ethan’s memory, and he suddenly flashed back to the mythology course he’d taken sophomore year, first semester. He hadn’t chosen to continue the course because mythology was dull to him; everything seemed all the same, just with different names for different gods. Plus, he’d needed to make room for psych if he’d wanted to major in it. But anyway, he was suddenly remembering something he’d learned in that course: a name. Neith. An Egyptian goddess, if he remembered correctly. He struggled to remember what she’d been goddess of. Something to do with fate? And hunting? Fate hunter? Ethan wasn’t sure.

He found it odd that someone would name their child after an Egyptian goddess, and especially one with as weird a name as Neith. But there was something else she’d said; that someone named Sia needed scrolls. Sia was another familiar name to him, and one he could very easily place.

“Well, I’m off to meet Sia by the Thoth statue,” Neith said, waving goodbye as best she could with an armful of scrolls. “See you around, Malina. And you too, Ethan.” 

Neith walked away, nearly dropping one of the scrolls and scrambling to keep it from falling as she went. Once she was out of earshot, Ethan stepped close to Malina and muttered, “Isn’t Sia the name of a pop singer?”

Malina chuckled and shook her head. “No. Well, yeah. But this Sia is not the same Sia. The one Neith needs to go to see is the original Sia. The singer was probably named after her or something, likely unintentionally.”

“Oh,” Ethan said, confused. “Then who’s this Sia?”

“She’s the Egyptian personification of wisdom,” Malina said simply. “Thoth is her son, and Neith is technically her mother. Sia’s quite close to both of them.”

“Oh, alright,” Ethan said, not quite processing what she’d said. But then it hit him. “Wait. Personification of wisdom? What?”

Malina patted Ethan on the shoulder, a smirk on her face as if she was enjoying his confusion. She probably was. “All in due time, Ethan. Now come on, we’re on our way to the sixth floor.”

She led Ethan, who was still torn up over that whole “personification of wisdom” thing, in the direction Neith had come from for about a hundred feet before they arrived at an elevator. Malina pushed the button, and they waited. After a few seconds, the door opened with a small ding, and Malina and Ethan stepped inside. As the door closed, Malina pushed the “6” button, and the elevator lurched into motion.

Meanwhile, Ethan was still hung up over this Sia person. “It’s just—how can someone be the personification of wisdom?” He shook his head in bewilderment. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Aw, come on, Ethan,” Malina said, that smirk still on her face. Ethan was ready to smack it off at that point. “You were a psych major, and a damn good one, too. Take a few moments and use that big ol’ head of yours to figure it out for yourself.”

Finally realizing that he wasn’t gonna get any information from Malina, Ethan decided to take her advice and figure it out for himself. How could a person be the personification of knowledge? Unless—unless it wasn’t a person.

Something suddenly clicked in Ethan’s head. He suddenly remembered how, in his mythology class, they had spent weeks going over the seven major god pantheons: Greek, Roman, Norse, Egyptian, Hindu, Mayan, and Chinese. Ethan remembered how, when going over the Egyptian pantheon, there was mention of a man named Thoth, god of knowledge and wisdom. Malina had said that Sia’s son was named Thoth, and also that Sia was the Egyptian personification of wisdom. Could that mean that—that this Sia person was a goddess? A real, live, honest-to-god goddess?

At first Ethan was quick to deny it, but then another connection was drawn: Malina had said that Neith was technically Sia’s mother. Ethan remembered who Neith was now. In Egyptian mythology, she had originally been goddess of the hunt, but then turned into the weaver of fate. And, according to Egyptian creation myths, had been the first goddess from which all of creation had come forth. It was a wild leap, but maybe—just maybe—the Neith Ethan had just met was the Neith. The first Egyptian goddess.

“So Neith was…Neith was a goddess?” Ethan asked Malina hesitantly, somewhat afraid of the answer.

Malina smiled and nodded. “And he finally figures it out.”

Ethan tried not to look at her because he didn’t want her to pick up on how scared and small he was suddenly feeling. He just nodded. Malina’s response to that was, “Oh, come on, Ethan. Magic is real, you’ve accepted that. Why can’t gods be?”

“Well, yeah, but—” he stuttered. “I—I just can’t believe I’ve met a goddess. I mean, honestly. I never saw that one coming.”

Malina was quiet for a bit before quietly saying: “Two. You’ve met two goddesses.”

“Two? But I never actually met Sia, how could I have—” Ethan stopped when it finally hit him. He turned towards Malina slowly, wide-eyed and stunned. “You?”

Malina nodded and turned up her palms. “Guilty as charged.”

“How could you not tell me you were a goddess?”

“Honestly, I was kind of worried that you might have some sort of mental breakdown if I just threw that on you in the middle of that whole Sehaqeq situation,” Malina admitted. “But hey, at least you know now.”

“Right,” Ethan said quietly. “So, uh…what of?”

Malina arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“What are you a—” Ethan’s mouth was suddenly very dry. “—a goddess of?”

“Oh,” Malina said, chuckling. “Well, I happen to be the goddess of the sun in Inuit mythology. I’m not the main sun god anymore, though; that went to Helios a long time ago. But I’m cool with it, because even though it technically makes me one of his demigods, I still have all my goddess powers.” She grinned. “And that’s all I really need, anyway.”

Inuit. Huh. Now that Ethan really looked at Malina, he could see it. Her jet black hair, the darker complexion of her skin, the slight roundness in her face that stood out in stark contrast to her lean and fit frame. Granted, he didn’t have much to go on because he’d only ever seen a few pictures of Inuit people in his life (and they were likely stereotypical representations), but from what he’d seen she really did fit the description.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal a floor filled with even more hustle and bustle than the other ones. People—gods?—were running around left and right, carrying things and shouting things and some of them had animals with them. Malina, probably sensing that Ethan was just a bit too stunned to move as of yet, grabbed his arm and pulled him through the crowd. All the way through, Malina greeted almost every one of them.

A woman wearing a regal headdress passed them by, waving. Malina waved back. “Hey, Awilix!” Turning to Ethan, she whispered, “Mayan goddess of the moon.” Ethan nodded, only slightly processing what she was saying.

There were many more gods that Ethan was briefly introduced to, so many that he couldn’t possibly remember them all. Hou Yi, the Chinese archer god. Cliodhna, the Celtic goddess of beauty. Sylvanus, Roman god of nature. Ninkasi, the Babylonian goddess of wine. Hermes, the Greek messenger god (at least that one he actually knew beforehand). But there were just too many of them. Too many gods who, just yesterday, may as well have not existed for all Ethan knew about them. He was just feeling way too overwhelmed by it all. 

Finally, they were out of the crowd, and in front of another vault door. Ethan eyed it warily. “What’s in here? Are there even more gods in there, waiting for me?”

Malina laughed. “No, no.” Then she stopped, thought about it, and said, “Well, actually, yes. But only two. And one of them you already know.”

“Already know?” Ethan said as Malina put her hand on the door to unlock it, just like she had done with the other vault door. “I barely knew Hermes.”

Malina smirked. “Trust me. You’ll know him.”

Ethan decided to just take her word for it. So, as he heard the chunking sound of the locks unlocking, he mentally prepared himself for this meeting. He wanted to be ready for something about all this, just for once.

So imagine his surprise and total unpreparedness when he walked into the room to see his psychology teacher, Dr. Andrew Sharman, standing there with a beaming smile on his face. “Hey there, Ethan,” he said. “How’ve you liked HQ so far?”

***

Ethan nearly passed clean out.

“You too?” he cried, thrusting an accusing finger at Dr. Sharman. “Okay, how many more people I know are gods? Is it everyone? Have I just been surrounded by gods my whole life and just never have noticed? Is that it, is that what’s going on here?” He turned to Malina. “Who’s my mom? Athena or something?” He briefly calmed down long enough to consider that prospect. “Actually, that’d be kind of cool.”

“Ethan, calm down,” Dr. Sharman said, crossing to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s only me and Malina.” Ethan was actually disappointed. Athena for a mom? Cooler than it sounded, he bet. And it already sounded pretty cool. “Okay, so yeah, I was your psychology professor. Big whoop. I only took the job so I could keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe. That’s the same reason Malina was posing as a student in the class. We both just wanted to keep you safe, that’s all. So when we got wind of Sehaqeq coming to pay you a visit, we decided it was time to bring you down here so you could see for yourself what you’re getting into.”

“What I’m getting into?” Ethan asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

And for the first time, Ethan got a good view of the room he was in. It was big and circular, just like just about everything else in that godforsaken underground fortress, and there were maps and pictures and red thumbtacks on the maps and pictures, all over the walls. In the center of the room there was only one piece of furniture, the only one in the whole room: a table with a map of the world on it. Sitting at the table was a dark-skinned man dressed in what looked like royal robes. The man nodded at Ethan in greeting. Ethan just sort of stared back. 

“What is this place?”

“It’s our war room,” Dr. Sharman said simply. Seeing Ethan’s look of confusion, he added, “It’s where we plan out...well, the war. I kinda thought the name would be self-explanatory.”

“No, I got that part,” Ethan said a bit irritably. “But what war? What are you talking about? And who are you, really?”

“The war against Tiamat,” the man spoke up. He stood up, gesturing towards Dr. Sharman. “This is Anshar. And I am Olorun.” Olorun. That name sounded familiar. “We are two of the sky gods from different mythologies: he Babylonian, and I Yoruba, a god from a tribe called the Yoruba people living in present-day Nigeria.”

Ethan turned towards Dr. Sharman. “Anshar? A Babylonian sky god? You’re that old?”

Dr. Sharman touched his face, grinning. “Wanna borrow my moisturizer?” he joked.

“We have brought you here so that you may begin your training in the fight against Tiamat,” Olorun said. And then it clicked—Ethan remembered where he’d heard the name before. Malina had told Neith that she was taking Ethan to see a guy named Olorun. Unless there were two people in the entire universe named Olorun, which Ethan doubted there were, then this was probably the guy.

“Wait, what?” Ethan asked. “Fight Tiamat? What?”

Malina sighed. “I told you we can’t just tell him. We have to show him.”

Olorun stroked his chin, which is something Ethan legitimately never thought he’d see. “Yes, I suppose. I truly didn’t want to have to, however. It is quite dangerous.”

Ethan felt himself pale. “Dangerous?”

“Do we really have to make him do this?” Dr. Sharman pleaded. “His soul might not come back.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “My soul?”

Malina waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, he’ll be fine. It’ll come back, he’s pretty strong. He made the portal here all by himself.”

Olorun looked at Ethan, appearing impressed. “Very impressive, Mr. Locke.” He clapped his hands together and starting striding over to Ethan, his hands outstretched. “Very well then. We shall show you, rather than tell you.”

“Oh, no, you really don’t have to, I think I’ll be—” Ethan tried to protest. But it wasn’t much use, because the second Olorun’s fingers hit Ethan’s forehead, his vision blacked out and Ethan felt himself falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished the third chapter earlier than expected and despite the lack of attention this story's gotten so far, I figured I'd post it anyway. Ethan's barreling right down the road to joining this group and learning of his destiny...but we'll get to that next chapter ;) For now, enjoy these three, because I'll be super busy for the next few days and don't know when I'll be able to get the next chapter up. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys, and have a nice day! -Greek


	4. When It Began

_Several thousand eons earlier_

Olorun strode through the gargantuan front gates of Hecate’s palace. As he passed through them, he couldn’t help but notice that they were made of a mixture of gold and platinum. He sighed. Couldn’t Hecate learn that flashy wasn’t always better? Most of the time it was simply no more than tacky.

Almost immediately upon his arrival, he saw Anshar awaiting him in the palace’s Grand Hall. Anshar smiled when he saw Olorun, and stood from where he was sitting on the floor. Olorun smiled as well; he had not seen his old friend in millennia. The two of them embraced heartily, and when they pulled apart, Olorun asked him, “I assume Hecate summoned you to discuss the war as well?”

Anshar nodded gravely. “She would not relay the specifics to me. But from what I was able to glean from her demeanor, the war has taken a turn for the worse. And my wind spirits confirm this; they say that even with the power of the rings, Ciel is losing the fight.” His brow furrowed. “I hope Ouranos completes the seventh soon. Otherwise, Ciel may fall.”

Olorun nodded. “Yes, we all hope. But hope is only half of the equation, dear friend. One does not win simply by hoping; one wins by doing. Meaning that we must continue to do our part to keep Tiamat’s forces at bay until Ciel can ultimately defeat her.”

Anshar nodded back. “Yes, you’re right, Olorun. You always are,” he added with a small smile. “Now come. Hecate was been waiting for you.”

Anshar led Olorun down the Great Hall and off to the right, and through a rather simply designed wooden door, which stood out in stark contrast to the regality of the rest of the palace. As Anshar pushed the door open, Olorun felt himself tense up. He wanted to be prepared for whatever news Hecate had for them, be it good or bad.

When he walked into the room, Olorun saw that whatever it had been before was no more; the room had been entirely renovated into a war room, where Hecate could track the progress of the war and move armies as needed from her enchanted chess set. Olorun saw that the chess set in question was smack in the middle of the center table. He couldn’t help but smirk. Hecate was quite proud of her enchanted chess set that literally had the power to transport entire armies with the movement of a single piece. Of course she would not miss a chance to show it off.

Hecate turned as Olorun and Anshar entered the room. She smiled as she saw Olorun, and closed the distance between them to embrace him. “Olorun,” she said fondly. “It has been too long.”

Olorun pulled away. “Indeed it has been,” he said. He gestured around the room. “I see you are keeping up with the war quite well. What is the issue you contacted me about?”

Hecate frowned. “Yes, of course. Please sit.”

Olorun did as he was told, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down in it, grateful to be resting his legs after traveling so far through the Duat to reach Hecate’s palace. He had unfortunately undershot his portal, and while it was easy to make portals between the Duat and the real world, it was near impossible to make a portal from the Duat to another part of the Duat. Which, of course, meant he had had to make most of his journey on foot. Said journey had reminded him just how out of shape he was.

Looking around the table, he saw that there were seven people gathered in total: himself, Anshar, and Hecate. Ouranos, former lord of the sky and now second-in-command to Ciel (Olorun hoped that Ouranos’s presence meant that the seventh ring was completed). Isis, Hecate’s loyal daughter. Ra, the Egyptian sun god whom Olorun had only met once before. And Odin, the burly Norse god-king. Olorun was surprised to see that Odin was there. Odin had always been war-hungry and therefore only called upon in times of dire need, and Olorun feared that if his presence was needed at this meeting, then things were dire indeed.

Hecate cleared her throat as she sat down at the head of the table. She composed herself for a few moments afterward, and then began by simply stating: “Ciel is winning the fight.”

The relief in the room was palpable. Olorun himself felt as though an enormous burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. Hecate smiled before continuing: “Ouranos delivered the seventh ring to him only days ago, and with it, Ciel has the power he needs to defeat Tiamat. According to Thoth and other reputable sources, she will be defeated within the week.”

“Excellent!” Odin cried. “Let us celebrate with song and mead!”

“Why is it always mead with you?” Isis grumbled. “Are you truly that much of a drunkard, Odin?”

“Do not antagonize me, witch goddess,” Odin warned, staring daggers at Isis. “Always remember who is the more powerful of us two.”

Isis fell silent.

“Anyway,” Hecate said, redirecting attention back to her. “Although Tiamat is due to be defeated soon, that does not mean the war is over. Her forces of chaos will live on, and they will never rest until their mistress walks the earth once more. We will need to deal with them; for how long, I cannot claim to know. But there is a more pressing matter than that.” She swallowed hard, and cleared her throat. Olorun sensed that she did not want to say what was coming next. “Ciel is fading. Although he will be able to defeat Tiamat, once she is gone, he will not have the strength or the will to remain. He will disappear deep into the Duat, and it is likely that he will never reemerge.”

“That is terrible news,” Ra said, seeming genuinely distressed. “Surely there is something we can do to prevent this?”

Hecate shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid not. But although Ciel will fade, that is something we can eventually get over, something we can live with. However, there is something that will come out of his fading that demands our attention. And that is why I have brought you here today.” She gestured towards the other side of the table. “Ouranos?”

Ouranos straightened in his chair. “Yes. Even going into the creation of the rings, I knew this, but I always thought I would have more time to figure out a solution to it. As it turns out, I did not. You see, when the rings are all gathered together, they hold immense power. Power enough to destroy Tiamat…but also power enough to raise her, if held in the wrong hands.”

Olorun nodded. “And you fear that when Ciel fades away, Tiamat’s forces will attempt to use the rings to raise Tiamat.”

Hecate shook her head. “It isn’t as simple as that, Olorun. You see, there’s more to the story. Yes, if in the wrong hands, the rings can be used to raise Tiamat. But that can be done by anyone. But, thanks to the magic imbued within the rings’ gems, only a certain person can use the rings to destroy her.” She glared at Ouranos. “It is an unfortunate side effect of the rings’ magic.”

“And an unforeseen one,” Ouranos added defensively.

“As of right now, Ciel is the one who can use the rings to destroy Tiamat, and hopefully within the week that task will be completed,” Hecate said. “But my daughter Isis recently had a vision—and a horrible one, at that.”

All heads at the table turned to Isis, who looked vaguely uncomfortable with all the attention. “Yes. A few nights ago, the Fates sent me a vision of the distant future. Tiamat has broken free of her prison, and chaos reigns free throughout the world. She walks the earth unopposed, unchallenged, and the might of the gods, along with humanity, has fallen.” She swallowed hard, and Olorun saw how nervous and scared she was at her vision. “The seven of us are most certainly dead, likely along with the rest of Creation itself.”

“Then we must stop it!” Odin said, pounding his fist on the table. “Surely fate can be changed. The Fates themselves have said that their predictions are never set in stone.”

“Never set, but near impossible to escape,” Ra corrected. “If the Fates predict this, then I fear we are in for dire times indeed.” Olorun didn’t add that he had been having the same thought throughout the entire meeting.

“Yes, indeed we are,” Anshar spoke up. “But, we must try to change it nonetheless. It is our duty.”

“And I have already begun to take measures towards this,” Hecate said. “I have consulted the spirits of the Duat, and they have delivered to me a prophecy: that although Ciel will fade, there will be another born around the same time that Isis’s vision will come to fruition. This other alone will have the power to wield the rings against Tiamat, but he will face many obstacles and challenges, chiefly from Tiamat’s generals.”

Olorun shuddered just at the thought of them. He had only ever met two of them—thankfully, the third had already been imprisoned—but he was not eager to ever face them again.

“So what do we do about this so-called Chosen One?” Ra asked. “Certainly we must aid him when the time comes.”

Anshar nodded. “Certainly.”

“Unfortunately, it is again not as simple as you would believe,” Hecate answered. “His birth and Isis’s vision are extremely far off; several eons away. That is certainly enough time for a rogue demon to somehow acquire the rings and raise Tiamat, is it not?”

Olorun nodded. “So we must hide the rings. Make it so that they are inaccessible until the time arrives for them to be wielded once more.”

“Yes,” Ouranos spoke up. “This is the reason Hecate and I have gathered the five of you here today. We have decided that you five are the ones that we can trust the most out of all the pantheons, for in these dark days of chaos, loyalty is a fickle thing.” He looked around at all of them. “You five, along with Hecate and myself, will each be given a ring. Do as you will with it, but hide it well, for it must be kept secret and safe until the time when the Chosen One is ready.”

“Us?” Anshar asked, sounding nervous. “You would trust us?”

“Why not trust us?” Odin asked. His tone suddenly darkened. “Would you give us a reason not to trust you, shield-brother?”

“No, no, of course not,” Anshar assured him, flustered. “It’s just—I fear I may have misgivings about this. Trusting seven people with a task this large…what if one of us is captured and tortured? Would it not be safer to entrust only one or two people with this?”

“We have already thought of that,” Hecate replied. “After the hiding of the rings, the five of you will return here to have your memories of the ring’s location erased, but not before you give that information to myself and Ouranos.” She nodded towards the former sky god. “This way, the knowledge of the rings’ locations will be kept as safe as possible.”

Ra nodded. “An excellent plan.”

“Thank you.”

“Only the knowledge of where we hid the rings, correct?” Odin asked. “I do not wish to have any more of my memory erased than I have to.”

“Only that knowledge, yes,” Isis told him. “It is for the best.”

Odin nodded. “I understand.”

“Excellent, then,” Hecate said, standing up. “Once Tiamat has been defeated, and Ciel begins to fade, we will summon the five of you once more to assign you a ring. And, well, you know the plan from there,” she finished, smiling at them. “Now, go. Despite the fact that Tiamat is losing, the war still rages on. We must not become lax in the fight, lest our enemy gain a second wind.”

Odin stood up as well. “More fighting! Excellent!” He raised his battle axe high and smacked the shaft on the ground. In an explosion of violet light, he was gone.

Isis shook her head. “Oaf,” she muttered before disappearing herself in a flash of brilliant rainbow light.

One by one, the rest of the gods left in a similar way, until it was only Olorun and Hecate. Olorun was about to bid Hecate goodbye himself, until she gripped his shoulder, a darkness in her eyes. “Hecate?” he asked, confused. “What is wrong?”

“The Chosen One cannot be born into a world where the forces of chaos still roam freely about the earth,” she told him. “Otherwise he will never stand a chance.”

For a moment, Olorun was confused. But then he remembered a conversation the two of them had had just a few months ago, about this very subject. He nodded, understand now. “You wish to start the order.”

“Indeed,” Hecate confirmed. “I have already selected a person to begin the order, but he will not be born for a few millennia from now. Until then, we must do our part to keep chaos at bay so that the Chosen One may be born into a safe world.”

Olorun nodded again. “Of course. I will pass the message on.”

“Thank you, Olorun.” She smiled. “You are a true friend.”

Olorun smiled back. “The same to you, Hecate.”

He summoned his wind and vanished. 

***

_Present day_

Ethan collapsed to the floor, breathing hard. What had he just seen? Who were all those people? He knew they were gods, but half of them he didn’t remember learning about. And all that talk about Tiamat, the rings, Ciel, the Chosen One? What was all that?

The next thing, Malina and Dr. Sharman were at his side. “Ethan? Are you okay?” Malina asked him, sounding concerned. 

Dr. Sharman glared up at Olorun. “I told you he wasn’t ready for something like that. Regardless of whether or not he managed to make a portal, that doesn’t mean he’s strong enough to share someone’s memories.”

Olorun showed his palms. “My apologies. But I feel as though my memory of that meeting towards the end of the war was quite sufficient. You remember it, Anshar.”

“You showed him the meeting with Hecate?” Dr. Sharman asked.

“Yes.”

“To an outsider, that meeting is so insanely vague!” Dr. Sharman said angrily. “I remember it pretty well, Olorun, and nobody said a single specific thing in that entire meeting because we already knew the details. Ethan doesn’t know any details. He’s probably still just as confused, if not more so!”

“Nonsense,” Olorun said. “I’m sure he knows all that he needs to.”

Ethan didn’t like how they were talking about him as though he weren’t right there. He decided to fix that. “Actually, I still don’t really know what’s going on.”

Olorun stopped. “Oh.”

“I told you,” Dr. Sharman grumbled angrily as he and Malina helped Ethan to his feet. “Now, Olorun, don’t you have a meeting or something to get to? I think Malina and I can take it from here.”

Olorun straightened and huffed, looking offended. “Very well. But if your verbal explanations are insufficient, then perhaps I can show him a few more memories—”

“No,” the three of them said at the same time. 

Olorun huffed again. “Fine.” And then he disappeared from the room in a grand show of white-and-gray lights. 

Malina rolled her eyes and muttered, “Show-off.”

Ethan glanced nervously at where Olorun had been standing and asked, “He’s not gonna do that memory thing again, is he?”

Dr. Sharman shook his head, grinning. “No. He’s not. I promise.”

Ethan nodded, still feeling nervous. “Alright, thanks Dr. Sharman.”

“Call me Andrew.”

Ethan looked over at him. “Oh. But wait, isn’t your god name or whatever Anshar? Shouldn’t I call you that?”

Dr. Sharman—Andrew, Ethan had to remind himself—shook his head. “Nah. I like Andrew better. And anyway, the name Andrew Sharman came from my god name. You know, Anshar—Andrew Sharman. So it’s kinda the same thing.”

Ethan nodded again, feigning understanding. That seemed easier. “Okay then.”

“So listen,” Malina said, guiding Ethan to the chair Olorun had been sitting in and sat him down in it. “What do you still need to know that Olorun’s memory didn’t tell you?”

“Like, everything.”

Andrew sighed. “Oof. I knew the memory thing wasn’t gonna work.”

“Well,” Ethan added, not wanting to dump all the work of explaining on them. “I know the basic outline, I guess. Tiamat, Ciel, the rings, a Chosen One, some sort of order. I just don’t know what any of that means.”

“Alright, that makes this whole crash course thing easier,” Malina said. 

“Let’s start with Tiamat,” Andrew said, crossing to the far wall and pointing at a crude drawing on a piece of what looked like papyrus of a giant, smoky snake. “This is her. I guess you could say she’s the root of all evil. I don’t know how much Babylonian mythology you know—”

“Not much.”

“—well, in the ancient times, we Babylonian gods were the only ones that existed. Our creation myth is the real one: in the beginning, there was nothing but a primal wasteland. There was literally nothing but chaos and evil and primordial, demonic forces raging through the world. From this wasteland were born two clear, distinct forces: Apsu and Tiamat.” Andrew pointed at the picture again. “Whereas Apsu was the water from which all life came, Tiamat was the embodiment of the chaotic wasteland that she and Apsu had just come from. Apsu didn’t like her very much, but he consorted with her anyway, and they had two kids: Lahmu and Lahamu. Lahmu was a protection god, and Lahamu—well, it’s unclear what she did. Even for me, and I’m her son.” Woah, curveball. “Yeah, Lahmu and Lahamu consorted as well and had me and my sister, Kishar. I was the sky, and she was the earth. Kishar’s been dead for a while now, though.” Andrew’s demeanor darkened for a moment. “She was killed in the first war against Tiamat.”

“Oh,” Ethan said quietly. “I—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Andrew said. “If anything, it gives me reason to hate my grandmother even more. She’s always been a class-A bitch.” Andrew shook his head. “So much chaos, so much evil. Ethan, you have to understand, Tiamat hated Creation. Despite the fact that it was partially because of Creation that she even existed in the first place, she hated it so much that from day one her only desire, her only goal, was to rip it to pieces.” He shrugged. “And so that’s what she did. As more and more gods from across the mythology were born out of what little remained of the primal wasteland, since so much of its power went into Tiamat, even they saw that she had to be stopped. Those who didn’t side with her, anyway.” Andrew left the picture and started walking across the room again. “Which leads us to the first war against Chaos.”

Andrew reached a picture on the wall of a man surrounded by blinding white light. “This is Ciel. How he was created is still largely unknown, since Hecate won’t tell anyone for fear that Tiamat’s forces will use the trick to create a new chaos god, but Hecate and some other gods brought Ciel into existence solely to fight Tiamat. He was made the new head sky deity, and Ouranos, the Greek sky god, was appointed as his right-hand man.” Andrew gestured to a picture of a man with sky-blue skin. “Ouranos, however, knew that Ciel wouldn’t stand a chance against the pure chaotic energy that Tiamat was made of without some help. So, with Hecate’s help, he gathered seven precious stones and imbued them with magic so powerful that Ciel could use them to defeat Tiamat. And then, with some help from the good Cyclopses and the forge gods Vulcan and Hephaestus, he fashioned the stones into rings. The war waged for seven years total; and for each year, another ring was completed and given to Ciel for more power.”

“A whole year just to make one ring?” Ethan asked. “Doesn’t that seem a bit inefficient to you?”

Andrew shrugged. “Yeah, I guess, but keep in mind this is still basically the beginning of everything so let’s try not to focus on the inefficiencies of it, okay?” Ethan nodded, and Andrew continued. “Before Ciel could be given the seventh ring, however, Marduk, the king of the Babylonian gods, decided it would be a fun idea to try and defeat Tiamat himself. He claimed he knew how. But naturally, he died, and Tiamat absorbed his storm magic, making her ten times harder to defeat and almost costing us the war.” Andrew shook his head, tutting. “Even if Marduk has reformed from the Duat, I doubt he’ll ever come out. That’s not the kind of thing you ever live down.”

“Right,” Ethan said. “And this is where I actually know some stuff: Tiamat got defeated, Ciel faded away, and you guys hid the rings. But your memories of the locations were erased.”

Andrew nodded. “Right. I was one of the people who hid the rings, but unfortunately, as you know, I don’t have a single clue as to where.”

“Enh,” Ethan said. “At least you did it, though.”

“True,” Andrew agreed. “Anyway, after Tiamat was defeated, she was banished to the lowest known layer of the universe: three layers beneath Tartarus, the Pit beneath the world.” He shuddered. “It’s pretty nasty down there. The two layers in-between Tartarus and Tiamat are currently inhabited by her first and third general, respectively.”

“And who are they?”

“Pray you never find out,” Andrew told him. Ethan suddenly felt scared again. “And as for the second one, well, she was never found. She’s still out there somewhere, but she’s useless without the other two, so we don’t really worry about her.”

“And that’s kind of a stupid thing to do,” Malina spoke up. Ethan jumped, startled. He’d forgotten she was even there. “By leaving her to her own devices, you’re only letting her gather power.”

“Whatever,” Andrew said dismissively. “But anyway, yeah, that’s all you really need to know about that side of it all. Now I’ll hand it over to Malina. She’ll tell you about the Chevaliers.”

“The what?” Ethan asked, confused.

“Les Chevaliers du Ciel,” Malina said, stepping in front of Andrew. “The French phrase meaning ‘The Knights of Heaven.’ You said there was an order mentioned in Olorun’s memory?”

Ethan nodded. “Something to do with fighting Tiamat’s forces.”

Malina nodded back at him. “Right. That’s the Chevaliers. There’s not much to tell about it, really. It’s just that, when Tiamat’s forces began to become too much for the gods to handle, Hecate decided that there needed to be an army of magically trained mortals to fight against chaos, too. Now, how good were you at European History?”

“Pretty good.”

“Alright. Do you remember the name Charlemagne?”

Ethan snorted. “Of course I remember Charlemagne. He was one of the most important figures in European history. He was the ruler of the Frankish empire that eventually divided into modern-day France and Germany.”

Malina nodded. “Alright, smartass” she said with a bit of a huff. “But what I bet you didn’t know is that in the year 760, Hecate appeared to Charlemagne and told him that it was time mortals joined the fight against chaos.” She was right, Ethan hadn’t known that. “She showed him the demons, the fear, and the primordial forces that had plagued the earth ever since Tiamat’s death, and he readily agreed to join Hecate.”

“Wait, what do you mean she showed him?” Ethan interrupted. “How could mortals—” that word sounded weird coming out of Ethan’s mouth; it made him feel as though he wasn’t one anymore “—not see that stuff? I feel like it’d be pretty obvious.”

“That’s because of Ningirama’s Wall,” Andrew piped up. “Ningirama was the Babylonian god of magic, and it’s because of his spell that the magic world and the mortal world are separated. Thanks to the Wall, mortals can’t see all the immortal stuff.”

“But they could be trained to be,” Malina added. “This is what Hecate offered Charlemagne, and, like I said, after seeing all the chaos stuff, Charlemagne accepted. And thus, Charlemagne became the first leader of the Chevaliers du Ciel.” She gestured around her. “This is the HQ for the Chevaliers, and all those gods and people you saw out there are members.” Malina smirked. “And also, Hecate even influenced Charlemagne and his people, and all their descendants, to one day form the French language so that the word Ciel became the word for ‘heaven’. Pretty sneaky, if you ask me.”

Ethan sat there for a long time, in silence, before he realized she was done. And then he sat there some more. He was trying to process it all, and surprisingly, he was doing a good job of it. Ethan was stunned at how easily he was accepting all of this. It was all so new, so foreign to him, and yet at the same time he felt like it had always been a part of his life. And he supposed that now, it was. Although he had one more question for them: “What about that whole business about the Chosen One or whatever? Really pretentious name, by the way. But you never got to that.”

Malina raised her eyebrows. “Have you seriously not caught on yet?”

In fact, he had. But he didn’t want it to be true.

“Ethan, you are the Chosen One,” Andrew told him. “Why do you think all this has happened to you, and so suddenly, too? It’s time for the war to begin again.”

“Awesome,” Ethan said, his mouth very dry. He hoped they caught on to the fearful sarcasm in his voice. Because it really was not awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm currently on a bit of a holiday from school so...I've been working on this piece basically nonstop. I guess I'll just continue to update as I finish chapters, and maybe when it has enough chapters, it'll get more attention, lol. But trust me, I'm not salty about that, I know to give it time. So until that time comes, I'll just be here, updating into oblivion.
> 
> Also, fun fact: all the chapter names are song titles! I've pulled songs from all different types of genres, so not all of them are songs/bands that I would necessarily listen to, but I'll start putting the song's artist at the end of each chapter so you can check it out if you so choose, see if it fits your fancy. Here's a list for the first four:
> 
> -This Ordinary Life: by Michelle McGovern  
> -The Happening: by The Supremes  
> -I Know The Truth: by Elton John  
> -When It Began: by The Replacements
> 
> So, yeah. What awaits our Chosen One, now that he knows his destiny? Only time will tell...tune in probably later today to find out! But for now, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Have a nice day! -Greek


	5. Take It To The Limit

Shortly after it was revealed to Ethan that he was expected to save the world from Chaos itself, he was then expected to learn how to do magic.

“Specifically, Hecate’s prediction was of a deity who was a master at all types of magic,” Andrew told him. “So, you’ll have to learn how to do all types of magic.”

“All types of magic?” Ethan squeaked, still finding himself incredibly overwhelmed at the speed at which things were going. He was barely past meeting Neith.

Malina nodded. “Yeah. Like how I’m a sun goddess, so I harness the sun’s power to do combat magic.” She nodded towards Andrew. “Andrew does the same thing with the sky.” She unfolded her arms from across her chest. “But there are a lot more types other than combat magic, which is a pretty broad term anyway.” She began counting them off on her fingers. “There’s elemental magic, mental magic, bestial magic—just to name a few.” 

“And I have to master it all?”

“Do you wanna be the legendary deity or not?” Malina asked, clearly annoyed.

“No.”

“Well, too bad,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet. Malina led Ethan out of the room, with Andrew following close behind. “You’re gonna have to learn how to defend yourself, which means learning how to do combat magic and defensive magic. Fortunately, elemental magic covers both, and it’s also relatively easy to learn, so we’ll be starting with that.”

Andrew and Malina led Ethan to the elevator, where they traveled up to the fourth floor. Andrew told Ethan that the fourth floor was where all the training centers were. Ethan wasn’t really paying attention to anything after that; he was still focused on the fact that this was real. Gods were real. Magic was real, and he was going to learn it. And he was expected to save pretty much all of existence from a primordial snake from the beginning of creation. It seemed like he should’ve gotten over it already, but Ethan knew that he wouldn’t until he eventually became numb to the strangeness of it all. Plus, it was hard to get over it when people kept throwing new information and bombshells without really even giving him a second to rest.

It was also dawning on Ethan the true nature of the dreams that had plagued him for fourteen years. They were starting to make sense now: the big snake, of course, was Tiamat. Her speech to Ethan in last night’s dream—had it only been last night? It felt longer—made sense, too; the Chevaliers had come for him, just like she’d said. It unsettled Ethan to think that Tiamat, this supposed archenemy of his, had been attacking him in his sleep for fourteen years. If you asked Ethan, that seemed like one hell of a head start. 

After a few minutes of wandering, Andrew and Malina ushered Ethan into a room labeled “Elemental Training Dojo: Air/Water.” That did not look promising to Ethan.

The second he got in, he was already terrified. The room opened up into a huge underground lake that otherwise would’ve looked pristine and lovely to Ethan, and towards the ceiling there were two platforms on opposite ends of the room, with ladders on the walls leading up to them and nothing connecting them. Ethan figured the lake had something to do with water. He didn’t want to know if the platforms had anything to do with air.

Sitting on top of the water—yes, actually on top of the water, like Jesus—was a man who was sitting in a meditative position. Ethan had no clue who he was. But Malina said to him, “That’s Varuna. He’s the Hindu god of water. Varuna and Andrew will be helping you with these while I go take care of something.” She beamed at him. “Good luck. I know you’ll do great.”

And with that, she turned and left the room, leaving Ethan alone with two gods who could very likely end up killing him within the next hour.

“Alright,” Andrew said, clapping his hands together and startling Varuna. “Oh, sorry.” Andrew gestured towards Ethan. “Varuna, this is Ethan. Ethan, this is Varuna, god of—”

“Yeah, I know,” Ethan said. “Hindu god of water.”

Andrew nodded, looking impressed. “Nice job.” Ethan decided not to mention that Malina had told him that, because hey, who didn’t like a little praise every so often?

Varuna stood up and walked across the water towards the two of them. If Ethan had had any doubts that this guy was probably actually Jesus, they were erased after that. The guy even looked like Jesus. Scruffy beard, olive skin despite his Indian heritage, long black hair, and a white robe with wooden sandals. Ethan was beginning to become convinced that maybe Varuna had been Jesus. That would explain a lot of the water-related miracles, which, based on Ethan’s knowledge of biblical miracles, had been a good number of them. Water into wine, walking on water, the one with the storm and the fishes—Ethan blinked. Maybe he’d just uncovered a godly conspiracy without really meaning to. Now that would be cool. But of course, that was assuming that the Judeo-Christian religion wasn't real. Ethan swallowed hard as he considered the prospect of Heaven and Hell, God and the Devil, being realer than he had ever really expected them to be. Would they, too, be vying for his soul?

Varuna smiled at Ethan and held out his hand. Ethan shook it. “Welcome, Ethan. I understand you’re here to learn elemental magic?”

“I guess.”

Varuna chuckled. “Of course you are. Why else would you be?”

“I really don’t know,” Ethan said honestly.

Andrew chuckled, too. “Yeah, he’s, uh—he’s from Hecate’s prophecy. You remember, the one about the deity.”

Varuna raised an eyebrow in surprise, and, to Ethan’s increasing uncomfortableness, bowed. “Well then, it is truly an honor to be able to teach you in the ways of water magic.” He straightened and looked at Andrew. “I assume Anshar will be teaching you air magic here as well?”

Ethan shrugged. “I think?” Truth be told, he’d been confused for a moment when Varuna had called his former psych teacher ‘Anshar.’ Ethan supposed that the gods preferred to keep calling each other by their god names.

Andrew grinned. “Yeah, I am. Air and water magic are two of the most basic forms of magic to learn, overall. So why not try to learn both at once?”

“You know, I’ve never been good at multitasking.”

Varuna frowned. “Well, then it’s time you learned. Multitasking is incredibly useful and highly needed to perform magic well.”

Ethan was only made even more uncomfortable by Varuna’s sudden seriousness. “Um…okay.” He glanced to Andrew, then back at Varuna. “Look, can we just get this over with? Because I gotta level with you here: I’m still super overwhelmed by all of this, and maybe, if I can, you know, learn how to do magic, then maybe this’ll all get a bit better for me.”

Varuna cocked his head. “I do not understand.”

Andrew clapped Ethan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ethan. I do.” He stepped forward and started shoving Varuna forward as well. “Come on, water boy. Let’s start the training.”

“Alright then,” Varuna said. “Shall we start slow, or immerse him completely?”

There they went again, talking about him as though he weren’t even there. Ethan wondered if that was a god thing. “Um, what do you mean immerse?”

They kept going as though he hadn’t even spoken. “Well, considering all he’s been through, it might be best to start slow,” Andrew said. “After all, his magic reserves may be drained anyway seeing as how he had to make a portal without even knowing he could.”

Varuna nodded. “Alright then.” Then he turned to Ethan and, without warning, shot a jet of water—out of nowhere—straight at Ethan’s chest. It hit him full force, and Ethan finally understood how heavy water could be when concentrated. He fell backwards, the wind knocked out of him, and he looked up, wheezing, just in time to be hit in the face with another jet of water.

Ethan fell to the ground. “This is starting slow?” he cried, standing up and trying to shake his head dry.

Varuna pulled an orb of water out of thin air. “Defend yourself!” he shouted. “If I were immersing you in magic, you would be drowning right now!”

“It’s true, you would,” Andrew said, nodding.

It was at that moment that Ethan realized that training with gods meant either winning or dying.

Varuna hurled the orb of water at Ethan, and the same instinct as when Ethan had fought Sehaqeq took over. Ethan sidestepped, and held out his hand to catch the water. To his amazement, some sort of force—the same throbbing he’d felt when he’d created the portal, only less intense—shot down his arm and almost kept the orb in orb shape when he caught it. The moment it hit his palm, it dissolved into a sort of spiral shape, but it was still intact and floating there in front of Ethan’s palm. Not wanting to waste a moment, and figuring that attacking back was okay at this point, Ethan reared back and gave it his best pitcher’s throw. 

The water hurled through the air, but, surprisingly, it was not Varuna who stopped it. It was Andrew. Andrew sliced through the air, creating a visible blade of air that smashed into the water and disintegrated it. Ethan then realized that he was up against two gods, with two different skillsets. And he really wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to do what he had just done all over again.

But the gods weren’t concerned with that, apparently. They attacked as one; Varuna moved his feet and two torrents of water shot out to wrap themselves around Ethan’s ankles, while Andrew pushed a powerful force of air straight at Ethan’s chest. That hurt a lot, too. Then, Varuna pulled even more water out of nowhere—how in hell was he doing that?—and, to Ethan’s surprise, aimed it at Ethan’s crotch.

Ethan wasn’t having any of that. They could aim at his feet, his chest, his face—but his crotch? No. Too far. He spread his hands apart in a fluid, quick motion, and he felt the air bend to his will and create a mini shield that blocked the water and sent it down to the floor. But then, Ethan saw, he was still basically chained to the floor. To fix that, he imagined himself jumping, but using the air to propel himself. 

It happened. But bigger than Ethan expected; the next thing he knew, he was shooting into the air, and his back smacked into the platform on the opposite side of the room. He stood up on it, sore and angry, and glared down at Varuna and Andrew.

“What the hell, guys?” he shouted. “Two against one? That’s not fair!”

“Yeah, and it won’t be fair when you’re surrounded by demons who are all trying to kill you, now will it?” Andrew shouted back.

“But you managed to escape us,” Varuna called. “Your inner magical abilities are showing themselves, Ethan. Do not fight them; let them free, and use them to bend the elements to your will. But do not attempt anything other than air or water magic. You are not ready. Do you understand?”

“I guess.”

“Well, then…” Varuna roared, “attack!”

He and Andrew jumped into action. Ethan watched, terrified, as Andrew spiraled upwards, the lower half of his body encased in a massive tornado that carried the god up to the ceiling. Down on the floor, Varuna was doing something similar with the water from the lake, wrapping it around himself and freezing it into ice, creating a shell of armor that Ethan suspected would be a lot harder to break than regular ice.

He tried to do what Varuna had told him, and let the magic flow. For a few seconds, nothing happened. But then Ethan felt a strange tugging in his gut, and his first instinct was to double over so he could suppress it. It was painful. But then he remembered that he had to let it flow free, so he stood up straight and let the pain flow from his gut up through his chest and down through his legs. 

A few moments later, the pain wasn’t pain anymore; it was an odd tingling that was rapidly fading away and becoming a part of Ethan, if that made any sense (it really didn’t). But Ethan knew what the tingling was; he’d read enough fantasy books to know that it was power, sheer power, flowing through him.

And just in time, too, because Andrew and Varuna were attacking.

Andrew shot towards Ethan, waving his hands and manipulating the air around Ethan so as to try and encase Ethan in a ball of air. Somehow, though, Ethan knew what to do, and actually felt himself drawing on the water particles in the air around him and drawing them together to create several tendrils of water that he shot out all around him to break holes in the ball (so that was how Varuna had done it). Then Ethan pulled the remaining air in towards him, and instinctively shot it downwards at Varuna, who had been jumping up to catch Ethan by surprise. The air slammed into the water god, sending him careening down to the ground. Varuna smashed into the floor, his armor shattering.

“Oh, my god, are you okay?” Ethan cried. He was worried he’d hurt Varuna. But, as it turned out, he was the only one with any compassion anymore, because Andrew was attacking Ethan again. 

This time, the god had abandoned the flashy tornado and was running across the air towards Ethan, with a dagger in his hand. Ethan paled. He hadn’t been prepared for physical weapons. But then again, Sehaqeq had used a physical weapon along with magic. It was best to be prepared for anything, Ethan supposed.

Andrew lunged, the dagger raised high, but Ethan was ready for him. He dove off the platform at the last possible second, using the air to propel him forward. As he flew through the air, hearing the sound of Andrew landing painfully on the platform behind him, Ethan felt laughter bubble up in his chest and escape through his mouth, unbidden. He’d always wanted to know what it felt like to fly, but that had always seemed like a thing of fantasy and daydreams. But now, here he was, actually flying. 

Magic sure was cool.

Ethan redirected the air currents holding him aloft and carrying him around so that they took him towards the lake. He had a nasty plan to win the battle, and he figured the lake was fair game since it was in the room and made of water, right?

In the split second before he hit the water, he made a bubble of air around his head so he wouldn’t drown. Then, he let himself sink to the bottom, waiting. His plan was that once Andrew and Varuna came to the edge of the lake, he would make the water explode over them, knocking them back and defeating them. He grinned to himself. What a movie-worthy victory that would be.

But, unfortunately, it would not come to pass. Varuna must have known, or at least had some idea of, what Ethan was planning, because Ethan was shocked to find that the water around him was shooting upwards. And then the next thing Ethan knew, he was in the air, held up and being tossed around by an ever-shifting and jostling geyser of water. Ethan was in physical pain. Varuna was standing on the ground, casually manipulating the geyser with one hand, laughing.

Finally, Andrew, who was standing next to Varuna by that point, put an end to Ethan’s torture by sending up a gust of wind to carry Ethan down from the geyser. Once Ethan was back on his feet, Andrew conjured up a towel from nowhere—Ethan would have to learn how to do that—and offered it to Ethan. Ethan accepted it begrudgingly. The fact that neither god was attacking him anymore told him that the battle was over, and he’d been defeated.

“Don’t worry about it,” Andrew said sympathetically. “Nobody expected you to beat two experienced gods on your first go.”

Varuna nodded. “But the performance you did give shows genuine potential, and I, for one, am eager to see how it unfolds.” He smiled at Ethan. “But for now, you deserve rest. Andrew and I will stay here and, ah, clean up a bit.” Ethan looked around and for the first time saw the destruction they’d caused. There were holes in the walls and everything was wet, and there was an enormous crater in the floor from where Varuna had crash-landed. “Meanwhile, Tawaret will be waiting outside to show you to your room.”

“Who?” Ethan asked as he dried off his hair.

“Hippo goddess of protection and childbirth in Egyptian mythology,” Andrew explained. “I summoned her just a few minutes ago. So she should be here by now.”

“I’m sorry, but did you say hippo goddess?” Ethan asked incredulously.

“Oh, don’t worry, she’s not mean and deadly like the other hippos,” Varuna assured him. “And besides, she’s not an actual hippo. Although she can take the form of one. It’s a part of that whole zoomorphic thing that the Egyptians had going on.” Varuna rolled his eyes. “Only Vishnu knows why.”

Andrew elbowed him. “Don’t judge,” he scolded. “There are plenty of zoomorphic gods in Hindu mythology.”

“Name one.”

“Um—well—ah…” Andrew faltered. “Oh! Wait! There’s Hanuman,” he said proudly.

“Pssh,” Varuna said, laughing. “Hanuman isn’t zoomorphic. He’s just a monkey. That’s it.”

“Still counts,” Andrew muttered.

“No it doesn’t.”

“Hey, listen, I think I’m just gonna go,” Ethan broke in. “Thanks for the training, I guess.”

“No problem,” Andrew said cheerfully.

“And we will see you here bright and early tomorrow morning for another round,” Varuna told him, smiling. “We’ll make a god of you yet, Ethan Locke.”

“Thanks,” Ethan grumbled, walking past them and towards the door as they continued arguing about this Hanuman guy while they started cleaning up. Wrapping the towel around his still wet-and-shivering body, Ethan opened the door and nearly fell backwards.

Standing behind the door was an enormous woman. Now, Ethan didn’t like to make fun of people like that, but in her case, it was a simple fact. The woman was big, round, and her shiny black hair fell in clumps around her shoulder. She wore a simple white dress that Ethan was surprised to see fit her very well. Good for her. She saw him and gave him a wide, toothy grin. 

“Hi there,” she said brightly. “You must be Ethan. I’m Tawaret.” She held out a pudgy hand warmly. 

Ethan shook it, smiling. “Hey.” Not to be rude or anything, but he could see why she was the hippo goddess. 

He immediately regretted thinking that; here was a perfectly nice goddess who was going to show him to his room so he could get some much-needed sleep, and he was standing there making fun of her. That certainly wasn’t how his mother had raised him.

Tawaret turned and beckoned. “Right this way, Ethan. The fourth floor is training rooms and dorm rooms. Your room is just a short walk down the hall from here. Isn’t that so convenient?” She seemed so kind and jovial that if her dress were red, he’d have thought she was Mrs. Claus.

Tawaret was right; his room was just a short walk from the dojo. Ethan kind of resented that. It meant he didn’t have an excuse to be late at all. Tawaret opened the door for him and stood back, gesturing inside while beaming at him. “Right this way.” Ethan walked inside, thanking her. She tousled his hair. “No problem, sweetie.” Still smiling at him, she shut the door and he could hear her footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Ethan looked around and was surprised to find that his room looked a lot like the one he’d had at college. All of his things had been transported there: his clothes, his bedspread, even his signed poster of The Beatles that he’d bought at a garage sale for a very hefty price, and the one that Robert had always called him some choice but playful slurs for hanging up. It was already pinned up on the wall, next to his Yale University pennant.

Seeing all of this brought Ethan’s high crashing down. At first, he’d been feeling great. He had just come from battling two gods at their own game, and nearly winning. That had felt amazing. And what had felt even more amazing was that he had actually, finally done the magic. He knew just how much power there was in his system, and he hadn’t even started tapping into all of it yet. There was a lot of magical power flowing through his veins, and someday, he would know how to use it to really defend himself against hordes of demons and chaos. It was an exciting prospect, but also fearsome, and yet he felt oddly optimistic about it. Ethan had this strange sense that he could do it, no matter what, and do it he would.

But now, Ethan was reminded of home, and the weight of the world was falling back down onto his shoulders. As he collapsed onto his bed, he thought about Robert, his mother, Yale, and the life he had once cherished but now could never go back to. He kept having to remind himself that, in a way, he had chosen this; had he not decided to step through the vault way back at the end of that underground tunnel, he wouldn’t be here right now. Back then, only a few hours ago, the possibility of going back had seemed utterly impossible. But now Ethan was coming up with all sorts of ways to get out of the situation. He could’ve gone home and told everyone that he had run and hidden from the killer and that’s why nobody had been able to find him. He could’ve returned and pretended to just be learning about Robert’s death. There were a lot of things he could’ve done. Sure, there would have been a lot of interrogating, from the police, from his mother, from friends, but surely he could’ve managed it.

Could’ve, could’ve, could’ve. There were a lot of could’ve’s running through Ethan’s head at the moment. And suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he’d made the right decision. Should he have chosen to go back? Would it have been better?

The devil he knew, or the devil he didn’t know?

Ethan fell asleep that night feeling very conflicted and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, yet another update! This is starting to get some attention so I'm feelin good about the whole thing. I'll keep on workin, then, until the end. But for now, enjoy chapter 5! 
> 
> Pronunciations: Vuh-ROO-nuh/Ta-WERE-et
> 
> Song: "Take It To The Limit" by The Eagles (RIP Glenn Frey)
> 
> Tune in next time for another exciting installment! And thanks for reading this one, hope you enjoyed. Have a nice day! -Greek


	6. Now Is The Time

_Three weeks later_

Ethan was in the middle of beating down Varuna with a powerful gust of air when Malina interrupted him. 

Three weeks after Ethan’s first training session with Varuna and Andrew, the dojo had pretty much become Ethan’s new home. He spent seven hours a day in there, with small ten-minute breaks at various intervals, training to become a master at air and water magic. And he was getting close; although he still had never won a fight, Ethan had gotten very close many times. He thought that he had finally reached that point of victory: Varuna was close to being defeated, and one final gust of air to knock him out of his geyser would cement Ethan’s first win against the god. Andrew had taken a day off to go and take care of some preparations; for what, Ethan didn’t know, and Ethan didn’t care. With just him versus Varuna, Ethan had much better prospects at winning.

And he would’ve, too, had Malina not suddenly barged into the room shouting, “Ethan, it’s time!” causing Ethan to lose his concentration and start falling from the ceiling, where he’d been held aloft by a cushion of manipulated air.

Fortunately, Ethan caught himself with the air moments before he hit the ground, saving himself from a rather painful death. 

“Sorry!” Malina said as she helped Ethan up from where he had managed to gently land on his back. “I didn’t mean to distract you and, well, almost kill you. It’s just that, it’s time.”

Ethan was confused. “Time for what?”

“It’s time?” Varuna asked, manipulating the water to set him down next to the two of them. He seemed confused, too, but for a different reason. “I was under the impression it would not be time for another week. Ethan has not yet mastered air and water magic. He is close, but not quite there yet. He isn’t ready.”

“Yeah, I’m not ready.”

Malina shook her head. “I know, and I’m sorry. But things are moving faster than we anticipated. Er—” Malina caught herself, glancing at Ethan. Ethan had the sneaking suspicion that there was something she didn’t want to say in front of him. “She has managed to free Abaddon a week earlier than we expected. Which means Ethan has to go meet Hecate now.”

Hecate. That name was very familiar to Ethan. “Wasn’t she the one who held that meeting from Olorun’s memory?”

Varuna nodded. “Yes. And she will also be the one who will set you on your quest.”

“Quest?” Ethan asked, still confused. “Nobody ever said anything about a quest. What quest?”

“I’ll explain later,” Malina said, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward, as she so often did. “But right now, we need to get you to the portaling room. Thank the gods Andrew got Hecate’s dream message and started preparing this morning, because otherwise we wouldn’t be ready to go.”

Ethan supposed that preparing for this “quest” had been why Andrew had disappeared from training for the day. “Okay, but where are we going, exactly? And what are we doing? And why is there a quest? I don’t know if I’m ready for a quest.”

“Ethan, I told you, I’ll explain later,” Malina said, tugging on his hand again. “Now come on, let’s go.”

“You should go,” Varuna said grimly. He clapped Ethan on the shoulder. “I wish you good luck, my pupil. And should I never see you again—then this is goodbye.”

“Never see me again?” Ethan asked, suddenly scared. “Why would you never see me again?”

“Come on, you knucklehead,” Malina said, finally succeeding in pulling forward and into the doorway. “It’s time to go.”

“Farewell, Ethan Locke,” Varuna called as the door shut. “I truly wish you the best of luck in your war against Chaos. May you never lose your light!”

Needless to say, Ethan was beyond confused by that point. But there was no fighting back; Malina seemed determined to get him to the portaling room where, for an hour and a half every day following his elemental training, she taught him how to open portals better. Portaling, he now knew, was not just for transporting people; it was for transporting anything, and the portals were only visible for when they were used for people. Portal magic was how Andrew had summoned the towel for Ethan on his first day. Ethan had gotten quite good at everyday portal magic. But the whole “portaling people” thing? Not so much.

The portaling room was called such because it was the only place people went to in order to portal out of Rangiroa. This was partially because of the fact that the room had been built on a strong center of concentrated natural magic, which made it easier for people to create portals there because they just drew on the natural magic rather than their own reserves. It was also because the entire underground headquarters of the Chevaliers was designed to keep any and all supernatural forces from breaking in or escaping via portal or other magical methods. The portaling room was the only exception, and even then, you could only go out. It was kept under tight lock and key; Andrew was one of the few gods in the entire facility who had an access key. He had lent it to Malina so she and Ethan could use it for Ethan’s portal training.

“Where are we going?” Ethan asked as the two of them reached the grand, wooden doors to the portaling room. “What is it time for?”

“It’s time for you to get started,” she said simply as she scanned the card and the great doors began to open. When she caught Ethan’s confused expression, she raised an eyebrow and added, “What? You didn’t think you’d stay here forever, did you?”

Ethan had to take a moment to process that, and when he did, the room suddenly began to spin. “You mean—it’s time?”

Malina nodded and stepped through the now open doorway. “It’s time. And you’ll be making the portal, by the way.”

Ethan followed her into the portaling room. It was a completely barren room, wooden but painted gold, with two pedestals leaning against the far wall to mark where all exiting portals should be made; that is, in between them.

“But Varuna was right,” Ethan protested. “I’m not ready yet. Malina, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Nonsense, of course you can,” she said dismissively. “Now, about that portal—”

“Malina,” Ethan said, grabbing her arm. She stopped and looked at him. “Look, I’ve been through a lot more than you think over these past couple weeks. I’ve accepted a lot of shit: that this is my new life, that I can’t go back to who I used to be, and that I have to learn how to do this magic stuff; which, by the way, I feel like I have become pretty good at.” He shook his head. “But I really, really don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“Ethan,” she said softly. Ethan was a bit taken aback by how gentle she was suddenly being. “I know you think you aren’t ready to do this. But I’ve seen you training with Varuna and Andrew. You’re skilled, you’re powerful, and you’re ready.” She took his hands in hers. “There’s a lot of power in these hands, Ethan. More power than you’ve even unlocked yet. You can do this, Ethan. I believe in you, okay? And if you stumble, remember, I’ll be by your side,” she added with a small smile.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “You mean—”

Malina nodded, smirking. “That’s right, you dumbass. I’m coming with you, no matter what.”

“That’s awesome!” he cried, pulling her into a hug. Ethan was pretty excited about the fact that Malina would be accompanying him in this whatever-it-was. Not because he had a crush on her or anything, although she was quite beautiful. No, Ethan wanted her there because he would feel infinitely better with a friend by his side. Plus it probably didn’t hurt to have a powerful goddess there, too.

“Well, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t kill yourself, huh?” Malina said, laughing as they started to pull out of the hug. Then there was a voice from the doorway:

“Oh, hey guys,” Andrew said. Ethan pulled away from Malina and turned to face him. Ethan was a bit confused to see that Andrew looked like he was trying to suppress physical pain.

“Hey, Andrew,” Malina said. “You got everything ready to go?”

Andrew nodded, still with that pained expression on his face. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.” He raised the leather knapsack that Ethan remembered he’d always used for papers and things. 

“Wait, is Andrew coming with us, too?” Ethan asked Malina.

She snorted, as if that were a stupid question. “Of course. You didn’t think it’d be just us, did you? Two gods are better than one, and besides, three is a lucky number anyway. Things go well in threes.”

“That’s great!” Ethan said, crossing over and embracing Andrew as well. He thought he felt Andrew hug back a bit too hard for a few seconds before the god’s grip relaxed and he pulled back. 

“Now, Ethan,” Malina said, pointing at the wall space between the pedestals. “Portal. Now. Let’s go. Hecate’s waiting.”

Ethan looked at the portal space, and then back at Malina. “You expect me to make a portal into the Duat? All by myself? I can barely conjure up a Twinkie.” Okay, so maybe Ethan hadn’t gotten so good at everyday portaling. Sure, he could perform it just fine, but he hardly ever ended up with what he wanted. It also vaguely registered in Ethan’s mind about how easily he could talk and think about these things now. Just another example of how magic had become such a huge thing in Ethan’s life, and in so little time, too.

“No, not by yourself,” Andrew spoke up. “We’ll help you.”

“You can do that?”

“Lending power is one of the things you still have to learn how to do,” Malina told him. “But nobody can teach you that. Unfortunately, that’s something that just comes from you, so you’ll have to practice it on your own. When you get the time, of course.” She held out her hand. “Now come on. We seriously have to go now.”

Ethan took her hand with his right, and he felt Andrew take his left. The three of them stood tall, facing the portal space, and Ethan suddenly felt more power than he’d ever felt before coursing through him. He suddenly felt like he could do anything: decimate buildings, bring life from nothingness, or create entire worlds. 

But, of course, he didn’t know how to do any of that just yet. He figured he’d learn eventually, though. What he did know how to do was create a portal. So that was exactly what he was going to do. 

Ethan channeled the power that Andrew and Malina were giving him and focused his thoughts on the portal space. Within a few moments, a crackling vortex of color opened up in the wall, and Ethan smiled. He’d done it in hardly any time at all. Then again, he’d had a lot of help, but still.

“And into the fire we go,” Ethan heard Andrew mutter to himself as he and Malina rushed forward and into the portal.

Yet, as Ethan followed, he had a funny feeling that with his two closest friends at the moment by his side, none of them would end up getting burned.

***

Hecate’s palace was huge, and even grander in real life than in Olorun’s memories. Several soaring silver towers (try saying that five times fast) shot out from the arching roof, and it stretched out from east to west as far as the eye could see. In the Duat, that could’ve been five feet or five billion miles. One thing that Ethan had learned was that mortal concepts like distance and time didn’t matter in supernatural places like the Duat. In fact, the only thing that mattered in the Duat was death. If you died in the Duat then odds were a million to one you wouldn’t come back.

Ethan made a small reminder to himself not to die.

The gold-and-platinum front gates, which were bookended by two menacing-looking gargoyles, swung open as Ethan, Malina, and Andrew got close. “Hecate’s expecting us,” Andrew explained. “She was the one who contacted me, and told me it was time.”

Ethan gulped.

The three of them stepped over the threshold and onto Hecate’s property. A few nervous footfalls later, and Ethan was climbing the front steps. He gulped again. Despite the fact that he’d been training for this, had always known it was coming, he was downright terrified now that it was actually happening. Ethan was more or less past the part about being the Chosen One in a world full of gods, magic, and monsters. He was still not past the part about having to battle to the death with a giant snake that was apparently the root of all evil. That part didn’t seem fun.

Ethan suddenly heard a sound behind him that sounding vaguely like a yipping. He turned around, curious, and came face to face with a hyena that was only feet away from him. Now it was his turn to yip, startled and frightened. He jumped back, and wordlessly tugged on Malina’s sleeve, unsure of what to do.

Malina and Andrew turned, but seemed unsurprised by the sudden appearance of a hyena. Malina even sighed. “Zevoa, what are you doing here? You know you aren’t welcome by Hecate. She’s never liked you.”

The hyena smiled and, to Ethan’s surprise but not shock, changed into a human. The human was male, standing about five-foot-eight, around Ethan’s height. He seemed to be around Ethan’s age, too. He was dark-skinned, with handsome features, and wearing what Ethan recognized as traditional African garb. The man was still smirking at them. “I don’t know, Malina. If she didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t be. Maybe Hecate’s forgiven me.”

Malina rolled her eyes. “Please. Like she would.”

The guy—Ethan remembered Malina had called him Zevoa—shrugged. “Yeah, probably not. More likely that she doesn’t quite care I’m on her property. Which isn’t too far from forgiveness, if you ask me.”

“Would you just shut up and go away, Zevoa?” Andrew asked, clearly annoyed. “You don’t belong here. You know that. Why are you following us, anyway?”

Ethan’s eyes widened as Zevoa pointed to him. “I smelled him enter the Duat. Seemed pretty powerful. How could I not introduce myself?”

“I’m sorry, did you just say you smelled me?”

Zevoa smirked again. “Yeah. Hyena trick.” Then, to Ethan’s continuing surprise, Zevoa bowed. “Greetings, Chosen One, or any other name if you prefer, seeing as how that one sounds incredibly pretentious. I am Zevoa, the Yoruban hyena god.” He glanced over at Andrew. “Brother,” he said, still wearing his smirk and putting special emphasis on the word.

Andrew glared at Zevoa. It clearly bothered him that Zevoa was there at all. “You’re no brother of mine, Zevoa. Olorun is your brother.”

Zevoa shrugged again. “Still. You’re somewhat related to Olorun, which technically makes you related to me.”

“Look, would you just leave?” Malina butted in. “You got what you came for. You met Ethan. Now get out.”

Zevoa turned up his palms. “Fine. I know when I’m not wanted. But Ethan—” he locked eyes with Ethan, and Ethan felt unsettled by the fact that, despite being human, Zevoa’s eyes were still very much hyena “—a message. When fury overtakes you, I think we’ll meet again. Perhaps I’ll even help you out.” He grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. “Who knows?”

And with that, Zevoa turned back into a hyena again, and loped off into the fog of the Duat. 

Malina scowled. “I never liked him.”

Ethan stood there, stunned by the whole situation. “What did he mean by that? ‘When fury overtakes me?’ What kind of message is that?”

“Don’t trust him,” Andrew cautioned. “He’s always been a tricky god, being a hyena and all. He was a double agent for Tiamat in the last war, claiming to fight for Ciel when all the while delivering our plans to her forces.” Andrew glanced back at the palace. “Hecate’s never forgiven him for that. She despises Zevoa.”

Ethan nodded. Now all that talk of forgiveness made sense.

Malina nudged him forward. “Come on. Now that that’s over with, let’s get back to the issue at hand.” 

Ethan nodded. “Right. Saving the world from a primordial, undying being that happens to be the root of all evil. Cool.”

Andrew grinned. “It’ll be fun!” 

And with that, he entered the palace, closely followed by an eager Malina and a reluctant Ethan.

***

Ethan knew he was in trouble when he met Isis. 

She was waiting for them in the front hall, with her arms crossed and her straight black hair pulled up in a tight bun. She wore a floor-length, white, linen dress, with a necklace around her neck that had a symbol on it that Ethan was surprised to find he recognized: a tyet, the symbol of Isis. Even without the symbol, he still would have recognized her from the memory Olorun had shown him. She was staring him down with the same cold stare that she’d given almost everyone at that meeting.

Isis didn’t break eye contact the entire time Ethan was walking up to her. It made him feel uncomfortable, but at the same time made him feel brave. He knew somehow that if he didn’t break away, either, then she would respect him all the more. Ethan needed as many gods to respect him as he could get. 

So he didn’t look away. And eventually, it was Isis who broke the staring contest. She looked over at Malina. “Is he ready?”

“Ready as he’ll ever be,” she answered.

“Training?”

“Air and water magic,” Andrew replied. “He hasn’t fully mastered them yet, but he’s very, very close.”

“Is this a god thing?” Ethan interrupted, looking around at the three of them. “You know, talking about people like they aren’t standing six inches away? Because in the mortal world, we call that ‘being rude.’”

To his surprise, Isis grinned. “I like him. He’s got fire.”

“Thanks?”

Isis chuckled mirthlessly. “It is indeed a compliment, Ethan Locke.” She stepped backward, and gestured behind her. “Come. I will bring you to Hecate.”

Ethan pointed back at Malina and Andrew. “Can they come, too? I’d like it if they came, too.”

Isis rolled her eyes. “If they must. But come. Hecate doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and you shouldn’t anger her if you don’t want her to kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I've decided that I'm limiting myself to one chapter a day, because if I don't then I'll probably start abandoning all of my actual responsibilities for this, and while I personally think that's a worthwhile pursuit, the rest of my life might not agree. SO this is the update for today; more to come tomorrow, seeing as how the chapter is almost already done, lol. Also, a brief note: I prefer to use real gods and mythological characters for this, but Zevoa is the only one who's made up. I read somewhere that Zevoa meant "hyena" in one of the African languages/dialects...but for the life of me I can't find that source again. But I'm just going with it. So yeah, Zevoa doesn't actually exist, but that's the beauty of this: he doesn't have to. This is my story, and what I say goes!
> 
> Pronunciations: Zeh-VO-uh
> 
> Song: "Now Is The Time" by Ravenous
> 
> That's for today, folks. Tune in tomorrow for the next installment, and I hope you enjoyed this one. Have a nice day! -Greek


	7. Prove Yourself

The walk from the grand hall to the throne room, where Hecate was apparently waiting for them, was much longer than Ethan expected. 

He’d figured they would turn the corner or something and then, boom, there the throne room would be. But no. Nothing in Ethan’s life was ever that simple anymore. He followed Isis through the twists and turns of Hecate’s seemingly never-ending palace, with Malina and Andrew following them closely. They seemed calm. Isis seemed a dark kind of eager. Ethan, however, was terrified. This was it. He knew that once he met Hecate, he would either pass or fail whatever test she undoubtedly had planned for him. If he passed, then he was thrust into a world of evil and monsters and living hells. If he failed, then he died.

He wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

It might have taken way longer than Ethan had thought, but when they finally reached the big golden doors that Isis said led into the throne room, he wished it’d taken longer.

Isis looked back at Ethan. “Are you ready?”

Ethan shrugged. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.” He was determined not to let on his true feelings; although, by the expression on Isis’s face, he suspected she already knew.

Isis knocked three times on the doors. And then they opened.

***

Ethan stepped past Isis and into the grandest, most regal place he’d ever seen. And he’d been on a tour of Buckingham Palace once.

The walls were made of gold, and the soaring ceilings, silver. The room itself must’ve been the size of a couple football fields, wider than it was long but still quite long, with one lengthy red carpet running down the center, creating a path that led right up to a gold-and-silver throne at the other side of the room. Next to the throne stood a woman dressed in one those long white robes that Ethan usually associated with the Greeks—he was pretty sure they were called chitons or something. Her hair fell around her shoulders in the most regal way possible, and she looked up when they entered. Ethan could feel her piercing gaze from across the room.

But it was the woman on the throne who unsettled him the most. She wore something that looked similar to the first woman’s, only instead of it being white, it was dark purple and looked a little more like a cloak than a robe. Her dark hair was pulled up in a bun, and her skin was deathly pale. Two creatures stood on either side of her throne: a large dog that looked like it was snarling at Ethan, and a weasel.

“Polecat,” Isis whispered to Ethan. To his surprise, he wasn’t even thrown by the fact that she’d read his thoughts. “Her sacred animal, along with the dog. Not a weasel. Common misconception.”

“Thanks.”

The woman on the throne stood up as the one standing next to it fully turned to face Ethan, Isis, Malina, and Andrew. Isis stepped forward and bowed, calling across the room, “I have delivered the One to you, Mother.”

Ethan blinked, and suddenly the room was a whole lot shorter. He was now only a few feet away from the throne. He looked around in confusion. Isis seemed completely fine, and while Malina and Andrew didn’t really look confused, they looked a bit dazed, as if they hadn’t been expecting it. Ethan then made the mistake of looking up at the woman on the throne.

Her eyes were milky white and pupil-less, and were staring straight down at Ethan. It seemed a bit cliché, but he felt like they were boring right into his soul. Aside from that, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He nearly stumbled then and there from the sheer shock of looking upon her face. But it was a cold beauty that she possessed; sure, she was pretty, but Ethan had no doubt that she could snap him like a twig with a flick of her wrist if she wanted to.

The woman standing next to the throne sneered at Ethan. “Why do you gaze upon my queen so, boy? Surely you must understand that she has no time for the likes of you.”

Ethan was about to stammer out what was likely to be a truly intelligent response when he heard Malina say: “Step off, Medea. Don’t be such a bitch.”

Ethan felt his eyes widen as he felt a smackdown coming on.

The woman—Medea—shifted her focus to Malina, clearly pissed off. “You dare speak to me in such a disrespectful manner? And in that filthy modern tongue, as well? You might as well be on your knees, begging me to kill you, you D-list sun goddess. I’ll—”

“Medea,” Isis said, stepping in between the two women. “Stay out of this. Ethan Locke is here to see my mother, so I would think it is only right that he gets to see her face, don’t you? And anyway, as Malina so eloquently put it—” she added with a smirk “—please don’t be such a bitch about it.”

Medea stepped back, defeated but fuming. Ethan made a mental note not to make her angry. Then he looked back at the woman on the throne, who had remained silent throughout the altercation. She was still looking at him. Ethan felt like she waiting for him to say something. So he did; he said her name, which by now he had easily figured out.

“Hecate,” he said, bowing for good measure.

Hecate, to his surprise, smiled. “Ethan Locke. Welcome.” She turned to Isis. “Thank you, my daughter, for bringing him to me.” Isis nodded and stepped back. Hecate turned back to Ethan. “And now that you are here, Ethan Locke, it is time.”

“Time for what?” Ethan was surprised at the lack of fear he was suddenly feeling. Maybe Hecate had used some sort of godly voodoo to get rid of his fear, just like how she had shortened the distance between them earlier (he realized she’d been the one to teleport them closer). He remembered from the mythology course he’d taken in college that Hecate was a Greek goddess of magic. It briefly crossed his mind that it was strange how a Greek goddess could have an Egyptian one for a daughter, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was no longer afraid. And that was a good thing.

He saw Hecate smiling at him like she’d read those thoughts. Come to think of it, she probably had. “Time for you to prove yourself to me.”

***

Looking back on it, Ethan probably shouldn’t have agreed to fight.

Hecate had asked him to prove that he was the one spoken of in her prophecy—apparently his official title was He Who Is One With All, whatever that meant—by winning a fight. It seemed simple enough at first. But then Ethan had found out that the fight he needed to win would be him versus Medea and Isis. And Medea already didn’t like him.

Hecate was aware that the only magic Ethan knew was water and air, so she’d promised him that his fights with Isis and Medea would be two one-on-one battles with each using only one of those types of magic. His first fight would be against Medea, with water magic.

And she was drowning him. 

Ethan thrashed around wildly, trying hard not to give in to the temptation to use air magic to break out of the orb of water that Medea had him trapped in. But he wasn’t allowed; that was against the rules of the fight. Water magic, and water magic only. But it was difficult to use water to break out of water.

Ethan could see Malina and Andrew standing on the sidelines, just outside of the fighting ring Hecate had set up in the middle of the room, both of them looking vaguely upset at how viciously Medea was handling the fight. But Medea was a highly respected priestess of Hecate, so they weren’t allowed to interfere or say anything. Even Isis looked a little unsettled, but she was bound by the same rules. Only Hecate seemed completely calm, as if she knew he would find his way out somehow.

But Ethan was starting to black out.

He was currently locked in a mental battle with Medea to take control of the water. She was winning, but he was pushing back hard. With all the strength he could muster up while simultaneously passing out, Ethan shoved back against Medea’s mental wall and was both surprised and relieved to find that it finally shattered.

Medea stepped back in surprise, and Ethan took control of the water. He crashed to the floor, gasping and spluttering, while he willed the rest of the water to go flying at Medea. She didn’t react fast enough, and the water hit her right in the face. She stumbled back, and then Ethan, desperate to be able to breathe again but knowing he couldn’t use air magic, did something not even he expected, much less anyone else in the room. 

Ethan called upon the water in his lungs and drew it out through his mouth. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and it involved a lot of gagging, but once it was done Ethan could breathe and he also had an extra weapon. 

He lowered the temperature of the water and turned it into ice. He willed the ice to fly straight at Medea, and since she still had not recovered from his previous attack, it hit her in the shoulder. She cried out in pain and dropped to the floor. Ethan stood, ready to finish the fight, already calling on the water particles in the air.

But then he blinked and was back in front Hecate’s throne. Medea stood next to him, her wound gone but still in pain. Hecate eyed the both of them with interest, and said, “Excellent work, Ethan Locke. You have successfully defeated my high priestess in combat. That alone takes much skill.” Ethan could since a but coming on. “But—” yep, there it was “—you have not yet fully proven yourself to me. In order to do so, you must next defeat the one person in this room besides me who is more powerful than Medea.”

Isis stepped forward. “And that would be me.”

Ethan cocked an eyebrow. “What’s with the dramatic reveal? I already knew I was fighting you next.”

Isis sighed. “It makes for a good show, Ethan Locke. Now, are we fighting, or not?”

Ethan’s response was to use the air around him to propel him into a backflip back to the fighting ring. A bit of a pretentious move, sure, but it made for a good show. 

When he landed, he looked up and raised his fists, ready to fight Isis and win so he could prove himself. But when he saw Isis descending on him, he stopped.

Her arms and hands had changed into the most mesmerizing set of wings Ethan had ever seen. They shimmered like a mirage with every color of the spectrum, hypnotizing Ethan as he fell into the trap of their beauty. 

That was a mistake.

The next thing Ethan knew, he was on the ground, pinned by a powerful gust of air unleashed from Isis’s wings. She came down on him like a windstorm—literally, it was whipping around her—and suddenly Ethan couldn’t breathe again. She was taking all the oxygen away from him. Ethan really hated not being able to breathe.

Fortunately, though, since it was already all around him, air was much easier to take control of than water. Ethan stood and harnessed the air from outside the windstorm that Isis wasn’t using, and applied pressure to her windstorm. This opened up a space which created a vacuum, and suddenly her windstorm was gone. 

Isis seemed to have been expecting that. She went right in for the gusts, flapping her enormous wings at Ethan over and over until eventually he was blown right off his feet. He tumbled backwards head over heels, trying to use the air around him to lift him back up onto his feet. But Isis’s gusts were too powerful, and she was following him so they never lost their strength with distance. 

At some point, Ethan ran into the wall, already covered in bruises, and tried to stand up. Isis was having none of that. He could barely manage a weak gust of wind when suddenly he was in the air, hurtling towards the domed ceiling at a breakneck pace. Isis was doing nothing to stop him, so he had to stop himself. He did, and just in time, too, because he had been about to slam into the ceiling. He took a quick second on his new cloud to survey the situation and regain his composure, but that was one second too long. He felt his cloud dissipate—pulled away by Isis—and then he was falling.

A millisecond later, Ethan hit the ground, landing gently on his butt. He looked up to see that he was in front of Hecate’s throne again, and Isis was standing next to him. His bruises were healed. Ethan realized that Hecate must have ended the fight because it was over. And since he’d barely gotten a hit in, that meant—

He knew it the second he saw the crestfallen looks on Malina’s and Andrew’s faces, and the snide one on Medea’s. Isis had beaten him. Ethan had failed.  
“Stand up,” Hecate commanded, standing up herself. “It does not befit a hero to sit before a queen.”

Ethan shakily got to his feet, suddenly feeling nauseous. He’d needed to defeat Isis in order to prove himself worthy enough to Hecate, to show that he was capable of going on this strange quest (which he still didn’t know the details of). And he had been unable to do that. He wasn’t worthy, wasn’t capable. He’d failed his friends, Hecate, hell, maybe even the world. If he couldn’t do this, then he certainly couldn’t defeat Tiamat, ever. Ethan had never felt like such a failure.

But then, to his surprise, Hecate smiled. “Worry not, Ethan Locke. You have not failed my test. In fact, you have passed with flying colors,” she added with a smirk, glancing at Isis’s wings.

Ethan blinked. Was that a pun? “What do you mean?”

“I had hoped you would defeat Medea, though I admit I did not quite expect you to.” Ethan noticed that Medea looked like she wasn’t sure whether or not to be insulted by that. “And I certainly did not expect you to defeat my daughter Isis. She is simply far too experienced and powerful. After all, she is the goddess of magic in her own pantheon, the Egyptians.” Hecate nodded appreciatively at her daughter, and Isis nodded back, changing her wings back to arms and bowing. “If you had defeated Isis, I admit, I would have believed you too powerful too fast to be the true One I have spoken of. Power comes with experience, and as the One, you should not have had as much experience as required to defeat her.” Ethan only slightly understood that. “At any rate, Ethan Locke, you have indeed passed. And now, if Isis and Medea could leave us, I will bring you and your friends to the start of your quest.”

Ethan was stunned but overjoyed. So he really had passed. Maybe he really was capable of fighting evil after all.

Isis bowed again to her mother, and vanished. Medea scowled at Ethan one last time, evidently displeased with him having passed, and then she vanished as well. In seconds, Malina was on him.

“Oh, great job, Ethan!” she cried, all excited. “I knew you could do it. I knew you were strong enough.”

Andrew clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Good work out there, Ethan. That thing you did with the water from your lungs? Awesome.”

Hecate smiled at the three of them. “Yes, it is all very well and good. Ethan Locke passed my test, and in doing so has proven himself worthy to me. But, of course, this means that there will be no returning to Rangiroa any time soon after you leave my palace. There will only be the quest.” Her expression darkened. “Are the three of you sufficiently prepared?”

One by one, the three of them nodded.

“Good,” Hecate said, stepping past them with a wide sweep of her cloak. “Now follow me, and you will finally begin your journey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I know this hasn't been updated in a long time but life kinda got away from me, and this wasn't really getting any attention so I sorta forgot about it. But earlier today I got some inspiration for it, and decided, hey why not continue it. So...here's Chapter 7. Enjoy.
> 
> Pronunciations: Hecate: HEH-cuh-tay/Medea: meh-DEE-uh
> 
> Song: Prove Yourself by Radiohead


	8. So Begins The Task

Malina was buzzing with excitement. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of stress, with Sehaqeq’s sudden arrival at Yale, with having to bring Ethan into the fray earlier than expected, and especially when she’d thought Ethan had failed Hecate’s test. But every curveball the Fates had thrown at them had been effectively dealt with in the best way possible. It was only the still-looming threat of Sehaqeq that really worried Malina anymore.

It was lucky, really, that Andrew’s chosen profession as a human—many of the gods nowadays were assimilating into modern culture; Malina heard that Hera ran one of the best wedding dress-designer companies in America—was a teacher at the very same college that Ethan had decided to attend. Likely the Fates’ work. The moment Andrew had met Ethan in Ethan’s sophomore year, he had sensed the sheer power radiating from the kid. A few consultations with Hecate, and then Malina had been assigned to be a stand-by protector for Ethan. She’d sensed the power in him, too. It was too much to ignore, and there was no way he wasn’t the One. Everyone agreed on that.

Which probably explained how Sehaqeq had tracked them there. Not only were two gods together in the same area, but they were adding to the already immense power of the Chosen One from the prophecy that all servants of the Duat, both good and evil, knew about. Malina was sure he was working for Tiamat, and she’d known that someone would come eventually. She just hadn’t been prepared for Sehaqeq to find Ethan that quickly, nor had she been prepared for it to be Sehaqeq that found him.

Sehaqeq was one of the first demons. Hailing from Egyptian mythology, he was the grandson of the original demon—Lilith, from Judeo-Christian mythology—and was also one of the first representations of cross-mythology familial relations. Malina had almost not recognized Sehaqeq; it had been a few hundred eons since she’d last seen him, and in no way was he supposed to have resembled a suave, well-dressed man. He was always depicted as being “physically backwards”; that is, legs for arms, arms for legs, an ass on his face, and a face on his ass. His mouth was—Malina didn’t like thinking about that. 

But Sehaqeq, it seemed, had assimilated into modern culture just like the rest of the gods. The only reason Malina had been able to recognize him was from the dagger he’d used to stab Ethan. It was Sehaqeq’s signature knife. She—she of all people would know that knife anywhere. 

There had been a brief moment of panic when she’d realized it was Sehaqeq, because she’d suddenly been scared that he’d somehow reveal the truth to a boy who knew nothing. But they’d gotten away without any revelations, injuries, or deaths; a win in Malina’s book. The Fates at work again, most likely. 

Sehaqeq was a “master of the mind” according to the texts. In the world of magic and gods, that meant he was a skillful practitioner of psychic magic. And since he was one of the first demons, his skill was relatively unmatched. His psychic abilities had been what had changed the rain to hail while Malina and Ethan had fled from him at Yale. She’d known it was just an illusion, of course; the one setback to psychic magic was that illusions could never be brought into reality. That was one of the rules. It had taken some physical convincing to get Ethan to see that, however.

But despite Sehaqeq’s sheer power, and despite Andrew’s abandoning them—his excuse was that Olorun had forced him out of there, which Malina halfway believed; Olorun was a dick—Ethan and Malina had survived. Sure, he was still out there. Sure, he was probably still hunting them. Which meant she probably wouldn’t be safe until he was dead…

But they had gotten away from him once, they could do it again. And they had made it all the way to this point. The action was finally beginning.

So, yeah. Malina was excited.

She led the boys through the palace as she followed Hecate. The palace itself seemed enormous; Malina had no idea how Hecate kept track of it all. But then again, Hecate was one of the eldest goddesses. If Malina trusted anyone to guide her through the endless expanse of an infinite palace, it would be Hecate. 

The walk wasn’t long. Within about five minutes, Hecate stopped in front of a huge wooden door. She didn’t hesitate; she glanced back at Ethan just once, briefly, before pushing the door open. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware,” she said as the three of them followed her into the room, “seven rings were forged to give to Ciel so he could defeat Tiamat. Each ring was infused with a certain quality that Tiamat favored—things like darkness, fear, panic—and then purified with the light of Ciel so those qualities could be used against her.”

“And the rings were then scattered across the realms, never to be assembled together again so the risk of Tiamat rising was eliminated,” Andrew finished. “We all know the story, Hecate. I was there.”

The room they had entered was a war room more complex than the one they had back on Rangiroa. Maps with thumbtacks like complete rainbows littered the walls, tracking every movement of every single corner of Tiamat’s forces across all the realms. Malina looked around, amazed. She couldn’t listen to the conversation and take in the strategic masterpiece of the war room at the same time, so she decided to listen instead.

“But it is time we break that code,” Hecate said, coming to a stop at a small table in the center of the room, where a chessboard was set up. Malina had heard about Hecate’s legendary chessboard; it had the power to move armies with the pushing of a single pawn. 

“What code?” Ethan asked as he, Malina, and Andrew gathered around the table as well. Malina had to fight down the urge to move a chess piece.

“That the rings never be assembled again,” Hecate answered. “You know of the meeting so many eons ago, correct? Olorun said he showed you his memories of it.” Ethan looked sick, but he nodded. Malina felt his pain. Sharing memories was never a pleasant experience. “Well, then, you most likely recall what I said about how anyone can raise Tiamat with the rings, but only one can strike her down with them.”

“And I’m that one,” Ethan finished.

Hecate nodded. “Yes. We hid the rings until your arrival so there would never be any risk of Tiamat rising before she was meant to. We always knew that one day, the chains that bound her beneath Tartarus would weaken and she would begin to break free. And now that she has, it is time that you go looking for the rings.”

“Alright,” Malina spoke up. “So tell us where they are.”

Hecate shook her head. “Alas, it is not quite so simple.”

“We had our memories erased of the rings’ locations so they couldn’t be tortured or drawn out of us somehow,” Andrew said. “That’s the same reason why she can’t just tell us where all seven rings are. So it’ll take time to assemble them together.”

“Precisely,” Hecate agreed, nodding. “Hence the need for a quest.”

Hecate snapped her fingers and suddenly there were three objects on the table: a sundial with an elastic band attached to it, a mechanical pencil, and a strange octagonal thing with an eye on every face. “These are items to aid you in your quest. First, the sundial.” Hecate handed the dial to Malina, who, out of instinct, slipped it on her wrist with the band. Immediately it transformed into a regular watch. 

“That sundial is infused with the raw power of Helios,” Hecate explained. “So long as it is inactive, it will look and function as a mortal wristwatch. But when you turn the crank on the side—” Malina went to do so, but Hecate stopped her by reaching out a hand “—it will change back into its true form. Then, simply turn the disk and a powerful blast of sun energy rival to that of a supernova will be unleashed upon your enemy.” Malina was suddenly glad Hecate had stopped her from turning the crank. “You only get four charges out of it, however, so spend them wisely.” 

Malina nodded. “Thank you, Hecate.”

Hecate smiled, and then moved on to Andrew, handing him the mechanical pencil. “This one is simpler. It is a staff designed by Ouranos himself, made to be used by sky gods to better channel their powers. Simply press the button on the side that would normally make lead come out, and instead it will change into the staff.” Hecate pointed to the button, and Andrew pressed it. The pencil glowed and elongated into a beautifully carved staff, narrow at one end and wider at the other. “Then smack the narrow end of the staff upon the ground to change it back to pencil form, for better concealment.” Andrew did that too, and the staff shrank back into a pencil.

Andrew grinned. “Nice. Thanks so much, Hecate.”

But Hecate had already turned to Ethan. “I have no physical gift for you, Ethan Locke. But what I do have is the gift of earth magic.” Before Ethan could even blink, Hecate touched her fingers to his forehead, and they stood there for a few moments, silent and staring into each other’s eyes. And then Hecate pulled away, and Ethan stepped back, shaking. 

“You okay?” Malina asked him.

It took him a few seconds to compose himself, but once he’d stopped shaking, Ethan smiled and flexed his fingers a few times. “Yeah. Never better, actually.” He pointed at the octagonal device still on the table. “If there’s no physical gift for me, then what’s that?” he asked.

Hecate smiled back, and picked up the strange octagonal device, handing it to Ethan. “This is the key you will need to open the final door once you have located the ruby ring.”

Andrew brightened. “The ruby ring? That’s the one I hid! I remember that!”

“Yes; the first to be hidden, the first to be found,” Hecate said, suppressing a smile. She turned back to Ethan. “Once you are at the door, insert this into it. There will be no opening or indent; simply push the key into the door, and it will open.”

Ethan looked confused, but accepted the device anyway. “Thanks.”

Malina was happy about all the gifts and advice and everything, but she was starting to feel like it was high time they got going. “So, Hecate,” she said, clapping her hands together. “About that. Where’s the ring? How do we find it?”

“Yes, yes,” Hecate said. “The first leg of your journey should be in Scotland, where—”

“Wait,” Malina interrupted. “First leg?”

“Indeed,” Hecate said, shooting Malina a subtle warning glare. “I will not simply direct you to the rings; even that would be too dangerous, should you be captured. Instead, there have been clues placed around the realms to guide you to the rings. This is a quest, Malina. You will not be spoon-fed, if that was what you were expecting.”

Andrew whistled, and Ethan was suddenly interested in his feet.

Malina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was that what she had been expecting? Yeah, actually. She couldn’t believe that Hecate was wasting valuable time making them go tromping around the world looking for these rings—vital to their victory—when she could just tell them where they were. It was inane, irritable, and idiotic, and she made sure to project those thoughts into Hecate’s head.

The two of them stood there, glaring at each other for a long time. Finally, Hecate broke the tense silence by saying tersely, “I am sorry you feel that way, Malina. Perhaps you will change your mind soon.” She said it like a threat.

Then she deliberately turned away from Malina. “As I was saying, the first step of the long quest you have ahead of you is in Scotland. I will refrain from telling you exactly what while you are still in my palace because I would likely be reprimanded by a certain someone in this room.” Malina scoffed. Hecate was being childish.

Hecate refused to look at Malina, but her anger was palpable. Andrew spoke up, saying, “Well then, we’d better get going. Thanks so much, Hecate. For everything.” While he said that, he glared at Malina, as if to say Get your shit together. We can’t go around angering our most powerful ally. Malina hated to admit he was right. 

Hecate nodded. “Yes, I believe you should leave now.” She waved her hand, and a portal opened up in the wall. “This will take you to your destination, and once you have crossed through, you will know your first instructions. Now go. You have much ahead of you.”

Andrew dutifully went and jumped through, followed by a slightly reluctant and very uncomfortable Ethan. Malina was about to follow them when she felt Hecate grip her arm and whip her around. “You had best not cross me, girl,” Hecate hissed at her. “I will be civil to you if you will be to me, for the sake of this quest and the defeat of Tiamat. But let’s not forget where your allegiances lied in the first Chaos War.”

Malina stood there, stunned and suddenly afraid, as Hecate let go and pushed her through the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another update! I know it's been a bit since I last updated, but I haven't had a ton of time to write. I finally got time to do it, though, so here it is! With any luck the next chapter will be up soon. It promises to have action!
> 
> Song: So Begins The Task -- Stephen Stills
> 
> And I don't think there's any new pronunciations this chapter, so...until next time!


	9. Know Your Enemy

Ethan tumbled out of the portal and landed on a rock. Pain flared in his lower back where the rock had hit him, and he rolled off, writhing and stretching in a vain attempt to get the pain to go away. In an act of revenge, he used his newly acquired earth magic to force the rock underground, where it could never hurt anyone again.

Ethan grinned at the ease with which the rock slid underneath the soil. Hecate really had given him full mastery of earth magic, and had even amped up his air and water to full capacity. He understood how those elements worked now, and how to manipulate them perfectly to his will. The moment Hecate had touched his forehead, he’d been filled with such an indescribable feeling of power that it had initially overcome him. But, now that the initial high was fading away, all he was feeling was pure confidence.

What he wasn’t confident, about, however, was Malina. She’d really angered Hecate back there. Thank the gods that Andrew had decided to be the smartest one in the room and break it all up before anything drastic had occurred. But just because that confrontation was over, didn’t mean the resentment was. Ethan was smart enough to notice that there was bad blood between Hecate and Malina. About what, he didn’t know. But it was definitely there, and it wasn’t going away any time soon. Ethan just hoped it wouldn’t interfere with the quest for the rings.

The quest. The rings. It still stunned Ethan how easily he’d accepted all this. Sure, it had been a few weeks since his and Malina’s fight with Sehaqeq, so he’d had time to absorb it all, but he was still very surprised at his readiness. He had fully immersed himself in this new world, drowning in magic and gods and destiny. And honestly? At this point, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Ethan’s thoughts were interrupted when Malina landed on him.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Malina muttered as she scrambled off of him and got to her feet. She held out her hand to help Ethan up, and he took it, but he couldn’t help but notice that she seemed unsettled. She’d been late coming through the portal; something must have happened with her and Hecate. But he wouldn’t press as to what. When she was ready, she would say.

And then Andrew was there, standing next to Ethan. There was mud on his shirt, and Ethan noticed a mud puddle off to the side with a vaguely Andrew-shaped indent in it. He winced. “Alright, so here we are,” Andrew said, clapping his hands together with a huge grin on his face. “Glasgow, Scotland.”

Ethan arched an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”

“Think about it.”

That confused Ethan, but he did as he was told. And the moment he did, information popped into his head: they were in Glasgow, Scotland, and their target location was the Hunterian Museum and Art Gallery. There, they were supposed to locate and steal a book called The Enigmatic Lexicon, which was said to be a dictionary of a new and undeciphered language known as Linear C. Once they translated this text, it would take them to where they needed to go to find the ring.

Ethan blinked. “How did I know all that?”

Andrew grinned again. “One last gift from Hecate.” Then he produced the octagonal key Hecate had given them from behind his back. “You dropped this, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, slipping it into his pants pocket. It was bulky, but it fit.

Malina looked around. “So, we’re in Glasgow. We need to find this museum. Where do you see a museum?”

Ethan looked around, too, and saw that she was right. They were in some sort of park, but the park was surrounded by buildings and the rest of the city. The white noise of the everyday mechanical thrum suddenly filled Ethan’s ears as he took in the sight of Glasgow. He couldn’t help but smile. The only place outside of New England that he’d been to was regular England. Sure, Glasgow wasn’t far from England, but if this quest really was taking him all over the world—and even to places regular mortals couldn’t get to—then he was beyond ready to see it all.

“Well, what park are we in?” Andrew said, pointing to a sign next to the playground on the other side of the green. “If we find that out, then we can probably get directions to the museum, right?”

The three of them struck out for the sign. Ethan looked around as they walked, taking in the beauty of the park that lay in stark contrast to the city he could see on the other side of the street. The trees were sparse, but soared sky-high wherever they were. Little flower patches guarded by iron fences dotted the green. People walked their eager dogs and jogged along the sidewalks. The sound of laughing and playing kids in the playground made Ethan feel good, and almost made him forget that they were only in Scotland so they could start a journey to find and kill the source of all evil.

Malina was the first to step in front of the sign. “Pollok County Park,” she read. “Alright, at least now we know where we are.”

Andrew nodded. “Right.”

Ethan looked around. “Don’t you guys think it’s weird that none of these people didn’t notice us emerging from thin air?”

“Ningirama’s Wall, Ethan,” Andrew reminded him. “It prevents untrained mortals from seeing the supernatural.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Well, now that we know where we are, why don’t we get on with finding directions to the museum?” Malina suggested. “I’m sure somebody here’s gotta know where it is.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. “Right. Maybe—wait.” He stopped. Something seemed off to him. What had happened to—?

“What’s wrong?” Andrew asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s just—does it suddenly seem a bit…I don’t know, quiet to you?” Ethan asked.

The three of them looked around, and suddenly Ethan realized why it was so silent. Everyone in the park who was within their vicinity had suddenly dropped to the ground. The people, the dogs, the birds, everything and everyone. Ethan’s eyes widened as he saw kids slumped across the playground equipment, unmoving. They couldn’t be—

“Holy shit,” Malina breathed, rushing towards the playground. Ethan raced after her, closely followed by Andrew. Ethan surged past Malina, aiming for one of the kids instead of the benches with the parents, where she was going. 

Ethan yanked one of the kids up and felt their pulse. He almost cried with relief when he felt a pulse and detected breathing, too. It was all very faint, but it was there. The kids, and probably everyone else, were still alive for the time being. But for how long? And what had happened? 

“Guys?” Ethan called to his friends, who were looking around in confusion. “Guys, what’s going on?”

“I believe I can shed some light on that,” came a voice from behind Ethan. He whipped around and came face to face with a well-dressed man, whose cold, piercing eyes Ethan would know anywhere.

He cried out as Sehaqeq grabbed him by the throat and threw him backwards. “Why is it so damn hard to kill you?” Sehaqeq snarled as he advanced and Ethan scrabbled back in the mulch. “You should’ve died at Yale. I would’ve preferred that you died back at Yale. That would have made my job much, much easier.”

Ethan’s eyes widened as Sehaqeq pulled out his dagger again. But then Sehaqeq was shot back by a burst of wind, careening through the air until he collided with the slide.

Andrew rushed over and helped Ethan up, his staff activated and glowing slightly after being used. “You okay?”

Ethan rubbed his sore throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Sehaqeq wants to talk about hard to kill, well, let’s see him fight me,” Malina grumbled as she pushed past the two of them, her hands glowing and crackling with energy.

“Come on,” Andrew said, gripping his staff and stepping forward. “We’d better hold her back a bit.”

“Why?” Ethan asked, incredulous.

“Not even Sehaqeq deserves her anger.”

Ethan was surprised to find that he agreed with that.

The two of them rushed forward just in time to see Malina fire a bolt of light magic from her palm and hit Sehaqeq square in the chest. He crumpled to the ground, and dropped his dagger. Malina swept up the dagger, and immediately went in for the kill. But Sehaqeq was fast; he shot his arm up, grabbed Malina’s wrist, and twisted it. Ethan winced as he heard a crack. Malina screamed and dropped the dagger. Sehaqeq got to his feet, and pushed her back onto the ground. She hit her head on the slide and crumpled down, knocked out.

Sehaqeq picked up his dagger again and looked up just in time to see Andrew charging him, staff raised. Sehaqeq wasted no time; he struck up with the dagger, and cut Andrew’s cheek. Andrew cried out and stumbled, and Sehaqeq pitched him aside. Ethan stood there, stunned and scared at how quickly his friends had been defeated.

He was even more scared when he suddenly started walking towards Sehaqeq. He tried to fight it, but it was like his own consciousness was being suppressed by a dumbbell or something. It didn’t take Ethan long to figure out that Sehaqeq was controlling him, making Ethan come to Sehaqeq instead of making him chase Ethan.

Ethan continued to fight Sehaqeq’s mental influence, but he was too strong. In seconds, Ethan was standing in front of Sehaqeq, the other man’s dagger high in the air and ready to kill. Sehaqeq grinned with a cold glee, taking a moment to savor it all.

And that was his mistake. His mental hold on Ethan weakened ever so slightly, and that was enough for Ethan to push back with the first thing he thought of: air magic. He immediately willed all of the oxygen in Sehaqeq’s lungs to leave them. Sehaqeq started choking, dropping the dagger and falling to his knees as he clutched his throat. And Ethan turned and ran.

But Sehaqeq wasn’t down and out just yet. Before he could pass out, he used magic to flip the fleeing Ethan off his feet and through the air. Ethan crashed into the steps that led up to the various slides, dazed. His hold on the air around Sehaqeq broke, and Sehaqeq was able to breathe again. He took in a few deep breaths while Ethan tried to recover from the blow, and then he was on his feet again with his dagger back in hand.

When Ethan saw Sehaqeq advancing on him, he jumped and ran the only place he could: up the stairs and to the slides. Sehaqeq chased him, and when Ethan reached the top, stepping over an unconscious kid’s body, he knew the only way down was through a slide. But which one? The swirly one, or the straight one? 

Ethan flashed back to his training with Varuna back on Rangiroa. One thing Varuna had always taught him was that, in a fight, you should always find a way to use your surroundings to your advantage. So Ethan decided on the straight slide.

He dove down headfirst, flipping over to his back as he did. Sehaqeq tried to grab his feet, but right before Ethan went down he kicked at the demon’s face. His heel connected with Sehaqeq’s nose, and the other man howled in pain and stumbled back, leaving Ethan with a clean getaway down the slide. As crazy as it was, fighting a crazy guy in a playground, Ethan was already adjusting to it, learning to use his new surroundings to his advantage. 

Sehaqeq jumped down from the top of the slide and landed in front of Ethan, swiping with the dagger. Ethan yelped and jumped back, turning to run again. This time he made for the swings. Ethan circled around so he’d be facing Sehaqeq, and then jumped onto the swing, his foot raised to nail Sehaqeq in the face once more.

But Sehaqeq wasn’t about to be fooled again. He grabbed Ethan’s foot, and pulled him off the swing. Pain spiked in Ethan’s head as his skull hit the ground hard. Sehaqeq then yanked Ethan towards him, snarling, “You put up a good fight, kid, but this is the end of the—”

His threat was cut off when Andrew, having recovered from Sehaqeq’s attack, grabbed the other man from behind and threw him to the ground. Andrew looked over at Ethan. “You good?”

“I’m good. Kick his ass.”

Andrew grinned and literally did just that. Sehaqeq yelped and lurched forward, still on the ground. Then Andrew grabbed Sehaqeq by the shoulders and threw him into the pole on the swing set. And then he picked him up and whipped the other man around to face him.

“This isn’t over,” Sehaqeq promised, with blood pouring out of his broken nose and hate filling his eyes.

“It is for now,” Andrew shot back, touching two fingers to Sehaqeq’s forehead. Sehaqeq screamed, and then he was gone in a brilliant flash of light. 

Andrew turned and offered a hand to Ethan, who took it. When Ethan was back on his feet, he asked, “What did you do to him?”

“I forced him back into the Duat,” Andrew replied. “Should take a while for him to reemerge.”

Ethan nodded. “That’s good. I like that.”

Andrew grinned and looked around. “Seems to me Sehaqeq put some sort of sleeping spell on everyone here. It’ll wear off eventually, but we should be long gone before it does. People are bound to notice this scene soon and we don’t wanna get ourselves arrested, especially in a foreign country.”

Ethan nodded again. “What about Malina?”

Andrew walked over to her and hoisted her into his arms, carrying her like a groom would his bride. “We’ll portal to a motel and get ourselves a room. She’ll wake up when she can.”

“Alright,” Ethan said. “But I’m sorry, I’m not going anywhere until I know who that guy is. He’s tried to kill me twice already and I only know his name.”

Andrew looked confused. “You mean she didn’t tell you?”

Ethan shook his head.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Figures.” And then he explained it to Ethan, calmly standing there with a knocked-out sun goddess in his arms. He told Ethan about how Sehaqeq was Lilith’s grandson, and how he was an ancient Egyptian demon whose skills lied in psychic abilities. That explained how he’d been so strong in taking over Ethan’s mind, and how he’d turned the rain to hail way back at Yale. Sehaqeq was working for Tiamat (of course) and it was likely he’d been sent out as a hitman for her, tasked to take out Ethan before he could get strong enough to oppose Tiamat. “He’ll won’t rest until he’s killed you,” Andrew warned. “We can detain him, like I just did, but we can’t stop him. So we always need to be careful and be constantly moving. Got it?”

Ethan nodded. “Got it.”

“Great. Now can you make that portal already? My arms are getting tired.”

Ethan grinned and waved his hand, hearing the familiar crackle of a portal opening up behind him. “Anywhere specific in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playground battle! This one was particularly fun to write, guys, mostly because I finally got some unique surroundings for Ethan to fight in! It was cool pitting him against Sehaqeq in a playground, and I hope it was cool for you to imagine. Also, it was fun to write because we're finally under way! The quest has begun, and there's no turning back now. So sit back, and enjoy the ride, because it only gets worse from here :^)
> 
> Song: "Know Your Enemy" by Green Day
> 
> And there's no new name pronunciations for this chapter so...until next time, everybody!


	10. Fury

Getting a room at the fabulous two-star Hotel Ibis Budget was apparently a challenge when you didn’t have a reservation. It was also even more difficult when one of your number had an unconscious, bloody woman in their arms.

Andrew had managed to work some magic on anyone who saw Malina so that they forgot her, and so that the three of them got a room on the top floor. Two hours after officially checking in, Malina woke up. She was shaken, and slightly ashamed at being beaten by Sehaqeq, but otherwise she was okay. Ethan was glad she was okay. A little healing from Andrew on her broken wrist and concussion, and she was ready to go. 

They found out from the concierge—who was a very angry Scottish woman—that the Hunterian Museum and Art Gallery wasn’t far from where they were, and that since it was Sunday, it closed at four-o’clock. The three of them decided that even though it closed that early, they would still wait until close to midnight to break in.

And so, there Ethan was, staring up at the museum, dressed all in black. He felt like a cat burglar from the movies. He never thought he’d be a cat burglar from the movies. 

“So how are we breaking in, again?” Ethan asked his friends, who were similarly clad.

“I was thinking we’d just use the front door,” Malina suggested, absentmindedly rubbing the bump on her head that Andrew had been unable to get rid of. “The security on this place seems simple enough. Honestly, I could just snap my fingers and walk right in.”

“But then what’s the point of all this gear?” Ethan asked, referring to the grappling hook, flashlights, and pickaxe that Andrew had conjured up to bring with them. They were stuffed into a black duffel bag laying at Andrew’s feet.

Andrew shrugged. “Aesthetic?”

Ethan scoffed. “What aesthetic? Spy aesthetic?”

“That could exist.”

“Find me a world where spy aesthetic exists and I will personally pay you one hundred dollars.”

“Guys,” Malina called from the front entrance. Ethan looked up to see her holding the door wide open. She must have walked up there while he and Andrew had been bantering. “Shut up and let’s go.”

Ethan shoved Andrew for good measure and then went to join Malina. She walked inside, pushing the door open for Ethan to catch. Andrew followed Ethan, lugging the duffel bag up the stairs with him. Ethan purposefully didn’t hold the door for Andrew, who didn’t seem too annoyed by it. 

As Ethan walked into the museum, he was impressed by how big and extensive it was. There were fabulous paintings hung up all over the walls and hanging from the ceilings, and right at the entrance there were already a plethora of fossils and salvaged tools and weapons from various time periods. Ethan had to hold himself back from stopping to look at everything they passed. It was all just so damn fascinating. Ethan’s inner nerd was rearing its head and he didn’t even care.

Malina walked up to the map of the museum and examined it for a few moments before announcing, “I have no idea where the Lexicon is.”

Andrew began inspecting the map as well, while Ethan stopped to stare at a fossilized unknown mammal skull from the Mesozoic era, only half-listening. “Well, what category do you think it’s under?”

“That’s just it, I have no idea.”

“It’s a dictionary, where do you think they’d put a dictionary?”

“Andrew, museums don’t normally have dictionaries, so sorry if I don’t know where they’d put one.”

“Do you at least know what time period it comes from?”

“Does it look like I know that?”

Ethan looked away from the skull and looked up at the map that his friends were looking over. He scanned it for a few seconds, and said, “Archaeology.”

Malina turned around to face him. “Are you sure?”

“It’s a dictionary of an undeciphered language. Of course it’s in archaeology.”

Andrew shrugged. “Good enough for me.”

“Alright then,” Malina said, turning off towards the archaeology exhibit. “We have the whole night, anyway. We can afford to be wrong once or twice.”

“True,” Andrew agreed, following her. Ethan straggled along behind them, still mesmerized by the beauty of the museum. The art hanging on the walls only served to set the scene and make the museum exhibits even more interesting. 

As they passed through the biographical section, Ethan lingered for a just bit too long reading about the life of John Arthur, a Scottish missionary who had spent thirty years in Africa. As he was just finishing up, he heard a door open and a small voice say, “Hi.”

Ethan turned, startled, to see a little girl emerge from the nearby bathroom. He was immediately on guard, but when he saw she was sniffling and crying, he relaxed a bit. “Hey. What are you still doing here? The museum closed hours ago.”

“My—My daddy—” That was all the little girl could choke out until she started sobbing. Ethan glanced back at the biographical exhibit’s exit, where his friends had already gone. They would be wondering where he was, probably. But he figured they wouldn’t mind this noble little detour.

“Did you get left behind by accident?” Ethan asked sympathetically, carefully approaching the girl so as to not scare her. She only seemed to be about five or six. He couldn’t believe her dad had just left her there, but then again, you heard about those kinds of things on the news all the time. It was just something that happened. 

The little girl nodded, and Ethan smiled at her. “He must be worried sick. How’s about we get out of here, then, huh? Would you like that?” The girl nodded back vigorously, and managed a small little smile. Ethan, still smiling, offered his hand, and she took it. 

He led her out of the exhibit and towards the front of the museum, asking her questions as they went. What was her name? Alexis. Why was she there? Her and her sisters had been visiting with their dad, and she’d gone to the bathroom right before closing, and been left behind. What were her father’s and sisters’ names? Her sisters were Meg and Tiffany, and her father was Owen. Did she know her address? Yes. Ethan was confident he could get her back home safely.

Ethan led Alexis back to the front entrance of the museum, and saw that the door was now open. He could have sworn Andrew had closed it. He brushed the thought away, and turned around. “Alright, Alexis, let’s get you—”

She wasn’t there. Ethan looked around, confused. “Alexis? Alexis, where’d you go?”

Suddenly, an awful screeching sound came from the rafters. Startled, Ethan whipped around and looked up. There, he saw a hideous creature perching, shrouded partly by shadow but still easily seen. Ethan could make out a hag’s face with glowing red eyes, a wrinkled black body covered by a bag dress—it was literally a bag, kind of like a potato sack—and huge, feathered, black wings. Ethan’s eyes widened. He thought he recognized this creature from somewhere.

The creature laughed, and it sounded like it had been gargling gravel. “Oh, help me, help me, my brave hero!” it cried mockingly, mimicking a little girl’s voice as best it could with its own raspy one. “My daddy left me behind! Please, help me get home!”

“A—Alexis?” Ethan managed to choke out, panic constricting his throat.

The hag snarled. “It’s Alecto, actually.” And then she screeched and lunged, revealing her hawk-like feet, talons outstretched and ready to rip Ethan’s throat out.

Ethan screamed and ran. Alecto screeched in anger as she didn’t catch herself in time and scraped the floor. She recovered fast, though, and caught up with Ethan with a few quick flaps of her enormous wings. He felt her talons scrape his shoulder, ripping through his shirt. He cried out in pain and reacted instinctively. He willed the earth beneath them to jut out upwards, smacking into Alecto and sending her reeling. 

Ethan remembered now who she was. Once she’d said her name, he’d remembered. Alecto was the name of one of the Erinyes from Greek mythology; more commonly known as the Furies. They were vicious, mean, and relentless servants of Hades, seeking to drag down those who had broken oaths and committed horrible crimes. They were born of Ouranos’s blood when he had been castrated by his son Cronus. Ouranos, Owen. And Ethan remembered the names of the other two: Megaera and Tisiphone. Meg and Tiffany. He cursed himself for being so stupid and not seeing through Alecto’s ruse.

The other two Furies likely weren’t far behind. He had to get back to Malina and Andrew before anything bad happened to him. They could help him fight the Furies. But without them, Ethan suspected that he wouldn’t stand a—

Ethan’s thoughts were interrupted as he ran smack into thin air. His body collided with something solid and invisible, cutting him off and knocking him down. He beat at the invisible wall, trying to break through it, but something told him that it would be impossible. The Furies would not let him get away easily. He’d have to fight.

He heard Alecto screeching from around the corner, joined by two other screeches. Her sisters. Ethan had to resist the urge to break down crying. From the myths he’d read about the Furies, they were horrible and unrelenting with their victims, often tearing them apart before casting them down into the Fields of Punishment in the Underworld. And since they were probably only here because they were working for Tiamat—Ethan doubted breaking into a museum was a horrible enough crime to constitute the Furies—then they would be especially vicious with him. His only option was to fight his way out, and he wasn’t sure he could.

But he had to try. 

So Ethan got back onto his feet, clenched his fists, and steeled himself. He was ready to face his fate, no matter what the outcome of this battle would be. He just hoped it would be a good one.

Alecto swooped around the corner and saw Ethan immediately. She stopped, coming to a rest on top of a big box of glass protecting a fossilized arrow head. Two more creatures that looked just like her—Megaera and Tisiphone—joined her. The only difference between the three of them were eye color. Alecto’s were red, and the other two’s were yellow and dark purple. “Ethan Locke,” Alecto snarled. “It took my sister Tisiphone many weeks to find you.” She said that with a jerk of her head towards the purple-eyed one. “And she is a natural-born Seer. You are a very difficult mortal to find.”

“But that does not matter now,” the yellow-eyed one—Megaera—said gleefully. “For we have finally found you, and can finish what that wretched Sehaqeq started.”

Alecto scoffed. “Sehaqeq. What a fool. He was stupid to try and kill you while there were two gods by your side.” She grinned evilly at Ethan, showing off her canine teeth. “But we Furies are smarter than that. We know that once Malina and Anshar are separated from you, you have no hope of escaping.”

Ethan had to agree there.

“So now we are free to do what we please with you,” Tisiphone cackled.

“And what is that exactly?” Ethan asked, trying to buy time. His friends would have to come looking for him eventually. They would know how to break through the Furies’ wall. “Kill me? Is that what Tiamat wants?”

Alecto chuckled. “I could give a rat’s ass what Tiamat wants. We serve only our master Hades. And he has decreed that you be brought to him. So we follow his instructions.”

“So…Hades is working for Tiamat?”

“Perhaps so,” Alecto said. “But what does it matter to you? You likely will not live long enough to find out.”

And then she struck, wings outstretched and talons ready. Megaera and Tisiphone adopted a similar position, coming in from both sides. Ethan quickly managed to create a bubble of air around himself, knocking them all back. But he wouldn’t be able to keep the bubble up for long, and everyone there knew that. So Ethan had to come up with a Plan B, and quickly.

The unfortunate thing was that he didn’t have any ideas for a Plan B.

Alecto swooped in and slashed right through Ethan’s air bubble, and he stumbled backwards. He managed to summon a weak jet of water, but Tisiphone swiped right thought it. The small pillar of rock he put up in front of him was smashed to pieces by Megaera. Ethan had officially run out of options, and it looked like the Furies knew that.

Alecto closed in, and Ethan, in one last desperate defense, closed his eyes and just pushed out his hands at her. Maybe he could shove her back. But then suddenly everything was hot, and Alecto was screeching in pain. Ethan opened his eyes to see that her wings and part of her skin had been singed. He looked down at his hands, and felt the fading heat in them. In an instant, he knew what had happened. He’d summoned fire.

The Furies looked at him cautiously, carefully encircling him now. Ethan realized that they were afraid of him now that they thought he knew fire magic. But he didn’t; the fire had been a fluke. Ethan couldn’t summon it again, as hard as he was trying to. And it was only a matter of time before the Furies realized that.

Megaera snarled at him. “Ah, I see now. You can’t do it again, can you, Ethan Locke? Those flames were nothing more than a fluke, sister. We need not be afraid of him.”

Alecto got back onto her wrinkled, bird-like feet and sneered. “I thought as much. I was just caught off-guard. But there is nothing more you can do to stop us, Ethan Locke. Now it is time for us to take our prize.”

Ethan gave it one last desperate attempt, but no fire. No luck. No hope.

The Furies were on him in seconds, slashing and clawing and nipping at him. He screamed, trying to beat them back with his hands but to no avail. They were simply too powerful. They had been right; without Malina and Andrew, Ethan stood no chance.

“And now, Hades, ruler of the Underworld, we offer this creature to you!” Tisiphone cried. Ethan suddenly felt the ground beneath him weaken. “Take thy sacrifice as we drag him down to the filth of the Underworld, so he may know nothing but eternal torment!”

And then the ground beneath Ethan tore away, revealing a shadowy vortex that led to a place Ethan really did not want to go to. But he had no choice. There was nothing he could do. And, surprisingly, the only thing on his mind was not that he was probably about to die, but that Malina and Andrew would never know what happened to him.

Just like his mother, he realized. 

He felt tears welling up in his eyes as Megaera and Tisiphone slammed their bodies into the vortex and disappeared. Alecto gripped him in her talons and screeched in victory. And then she joined her sisters in the vortex, dragging Ethan down into the Underworld and to a fate worse than death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me! Yes, I am still writing this, despite the lack of attention! I firmly believe that one day it'll gain some traction. Hopefully. Maybe. We'll see.
> 
> Anyway, what a cliffhanger ending, huh? Ethan's been captured by the Furies, and they're taking him to the Underworld to meet Hades. What a Bad Thing, right? I guess you'll have to tune in to the next installment to find out what happens to him (incentive to read and comment/leave kudos! please! I'm actually really desperate!)
> 
> Anywho, pronunciations for this chapter:  
> Alecto = Uh-LECK-toe  
> Megaera = May-GARE-uh  
> Tisiphone = Ti-SIH-pho-knee
> 
> The song is "Fury" by the late great Prince.
> 
> That's all for me for now, guys. Catch ya later (maybe)!


	11. Locked Up

Getting dragged down into the Underworld was not as intense as Ethan had been led to believe it would be.

The vortex itself was hot and humid, making Ethan’s skin all sticky. But that was about as far as the discomfort went. Alecto shot down the vortex at a surprisingly comfortable speed, and her grip on him wasn’t as tight as he’d expected it to be. It was almost as if Alecto was actively trying to make the journey more comfortable for him. He figured it was the least she could do, really, having dragged him down there in the first place.

The vortex went on for what seemed like forever. Whenever Ethan risked craning his neck to look down, it went down as far as they eye could see—a vertical, shadowy tunnel that stretched into infinity. But the journey itself was short. Within what Ethan supposed was five or ten minutes of entering the vortex, they were leaving it. And Ethan really did not like what he saw.

Stretched out below him was a vast expanse of black. Seriously, everything Ethan could see was just different shades of black. Off to his left, there was an enormous black wall that lined the landscape below from end to end, running vertically. He saw thousands of different ghost-like things—souls of the dead, he presumed—filing through the three different openings in the wall. Each opening branched out into a path, with each path leading to a different section. 

Directly below Ethan was the most populated section. Millions, maybe billions, of souls milled around aimlessly, with a few trees dotting the area but not much else. Ethan realized that these were the Fields of Asphodel, where neutral souls spent eternity—those who weren’t bad, but weren’t good either. 

Far, far off in the distance, in a small corner of the Underworld, were lush fields of green that led into a sparkling blue lake; some of the only color Ethan could see. In the lake were three beautiful tropical islands. Ethan recognized the fields as Elysium, and the islands as the Isles of the Blest, where souls who had been reborn three times and lived good lives each time went to spend eternity. You could only be reborn if you entered Elysium, however. Ethan remembered that much.

The rest of the color Ethan saw was light, coming from two different sources. The first was a fiery light, emerging from a massive valley-like depression smack in between Asphodel and Elysium. Even from that high above the Underworld, Ethan could hear the screams. He knew right away that he was looking at the Fields of Punishment, where the wicked souls went to suffer. The second source of light was coming from an enormous black castle on the opposite end of the landscape from the wall. Ethan figured that that was Hades’ palace. Next to the palace was a gargantuan pit that Ethan knew could only lead to one place—Tartarus. He made himself promise to himself that he wouldn’t accidentally fall down there. Gods knew he probably would.

Alecto suddenly veered to a stop. She hovered in the air, and Megaera and Tisiphone were there too. “You two go inform Lord Hades that Ethan Locke has been captured,” Alecto commanded them. “I have a little detour I need to take with the prisoner first.” Megaera and Tisiphone nodded and sneered at Ethan before swooping away towards the palace. Ethan didn’t like the sound of that “detour.”

He liked it even less when Alecto started flying towards the Fields of Punishment. He briefly considered trying to catch her off-guard, maybe hit her in the face with some water and make his daring escape. But, as it stood, he was something like hundreds of miles above the ground. Even if Alecto didn’t catch him before he hit the ground, there was no guarantee his air magic was strong enough to save him from a painful death. And, supposing he made it to the ground safely, Alecto would just chase and catch him again. There was no real way out except compliance.

It only took Alecto a few minutes until she landed at the top of the ridge that looked down onto the Fields of Punishment. The screams were much louder and much more sickening from up close. Ethan could feel the heat from the various fires hitting him full force and making him feel weak. 

Alecto sneered at him. “Yes, you feel weak, do you not? The Fires of Punishment have that effect on mortal souls; it makes it easier to ensure they don’t try to escape.” Alecto relaxed her grip on Ethan, and he tumbled out of her grasp. Ethan now understood why she had brought him there; since they had to wait for Hades’ call, this was the best place to wait so that Ethan couldn’t get away. 

It was like all his strength had been sucked right out of him. He could barely move from where he lay helpless on the ground. Alecto chuckled. “It oddly pleases me, seeing you like this. The great Chosen One from Hecate’s legendary prophecy, laid low by some heat.” She scoffed. “Perhaps you are not as powerful as you believe.”

“Powerful enough to beat Tiamat,” Ethan managed to say.

Alecto laughed. “That’s not what it looks like from here. Do you truly believe yourself strong enough to destroy the source of all evil, Ethan Locke?” She smirked. “Of course you do. But self-deception is the greatest and deadliest form of trickery. You may think you have the power, but to me, you are nothing more than a weak, mortal boy who learned a few magic tricks.” She spread her wings out to gesture at the Fields of Punishment. “And when you finally die, this will be the reward for your efforts. Tiamat will make sure of that, I would think.”

“I thought you didn’t care about Tiamat.”

Alecto shrugged. “It is true, her plans make no difference to me. But Lord Hades, it would seem, supports her. And as I serve him, that would mean I serve Tiamat as well. If her desires reflect my master’s—well, then I carry them out.”

“Why would Hades support Tiamat?” Ethan asked, disgusted at her reasoning. “I thought he was supposed to be a good guy.”

Alecto scoffed again. “He was, once. But you’ve seen how he is depicted. His most popular myth is the raping and kidnapping of poor Persephone, when anyone with even the slightest thirst for more knowledge could discover that she willingly went with him.” Alecto inspected her talons as she continued: “Evil begets evil, does it not? Perhaps my master was so tired of being portrayed as a monster, that that’s what he became.”

“But why support Tiamat? Why not make a better name for himself?”

“If you had been ridiculed and cast out and villainized by both your brethren and your subjects for millennia, would you too not become a bit twisted?” Alecto countered. “As I said, Ethan Locke, evil begets evil. Even when the first evil never quite existed.”

Ethan wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just fell silent for a while, processing what Alecto had told him. Had Hades, a genuinely good person throughout Greek mythology, become so twisted by the misrepresentations of him that he had turned into the evil thing everyone had expected him to be? If that were true, then Ethan was afraid he was in for some dark times ahead. 

And then he started thinking about what Alecto had told him about his fate: condemned to the Fields of Punishment, with Tiamat crushing him beneath her heel (if she could have one, which she couldn’t, because she was a snake). And he knew what to say next. “You’re wrong, by the way.”

Alecto cocked her head. “Hmm?”

“About me going to the Fields of Punishment,” Ethan said, seeing the sneer already forming on her wrinkled face. “I’ll go to Elysium; hell, maybe I’ll get a straight ride to the Isles of the Blest. You know why? Because I’m gonna step on Tiamat and crush her like the annoying snake she is.”

Apparently Alecto didn’t like that, because she suddenly reared up, screeched, and lashed out with her talons. Ethan cried out as pain shot up his skull, and blood began trickling down onto his face. He would’ve reached up to inspect the wound, but he couldn’t move his arms. He was too weak. 

“That should teach you to speak out of turn in such a vulgar manner,” Alecto said triumphantly. “I may not care for Tiamat personally, but I understand what she believes in: chaos, destruction, fear. The very essence of the Furies. She may not be my mistress, but I wholly believe in what she stands for. So when you talk down those ideals, you are insulting me. And the next time you insult me, I may have to widen that gash on your head.”

Ethan was about to do something very stupid and say something back, but then he heard screeching from above. He managed to look up and see Megaera and Tisiphone descending from the sky. They landed next to Alecto, giving Ethan the most condescending smiles he’d ever seen.

“I like that gash, boy,” Tisiphone sneered. “It suits you.”

“Hades has instructed that the prisoner be brought to him,” Megaera reported. “Immediately.”

Alecto nodded, and the next thing Ethan knew, he was back in her grasp. “Then we fly for his palace.”

Megaera and Tisiphone took off, with Alecto not far behind. As they left the Fields of Punishment, Ethan felt his strength returning to him slowly. He could breathe easier again, and the pain from the gash on his head was starting to numb out. But then he heard Alecto say, “Don’t get too comfortable, Ethan Locke; your fate has yet to be decided. I would so love to be the one to kill you.” 

Suddenly Ethan wasn’t feeling as good.

***

The front doors to Hades’ palace were wide open, so Alecto just swooped in and landed on the palace floor. She let go of Ethan and threw him to the ground as she landed. He tumbled head over heels for a few feet before managing to stop himself. He scrambled to his feet and looked around, dazed and vaguely terrified.

“My sisters tell me that this is where we must leave you,” Alecto snarled at Ethan. “Were it up to me, I would rip out your throat here and now and deliver your soul to Hades rather than your mortal body. But sadly, it is not up to me.”

“Lord Hades has instructed you be brought to him alive,” Megaera explained. “Why, I cannot say.”

“Should he survive his meeting with the master, though, maybe we’ll still get to kill him,” Tisiphone said hungrily, eyeing Ethan with a cold gleam in her eyes.

“Perhaps,” Alecto said, smirking. “But for now those are not our orders. Farewell, Ethan Locke. May we meet again under less…pleasant circumstances,” she added in a threatening tone.

And then, with that, the three Furies turned and flew out of the palace. Ethan was not sad to see them go. For a few moments, Ethan was alone in the palace’s grand hall, and his mind propelled itself into overdrive. He started thinking about how he could maybe escape; perhaps he could create a portal. But to where? Glasgow, maybe. His friends had to still be there. He could find them, definitely. All he had to do was make the—

“I wouldn’t try that,” came a female voice from behind him that was much gentler than Alecto’s but every bit as cold. Ethan turned to see a beautiful, olive-skinned woman standing there, clothed in a floor-length, lacy black dress. Her dark hair was wild but still better-looking than his, somehow. And she held a very pointy-looking sword in her hand. 

“Portals can be tricky in the Underworld,” she said. “An inexperienced mortal like you could end up in Tartarus if you aren’t careful. And I doubt you want to go there.”

Ethan shook his head no.

The woman chuckled. “I thought not. Now come. I’m to bring you to my husband now.”

Her husband. “You’re Persephone?”

“Close,” she said, lifting the sword and stroking it in her hands. “Proserpina. You could say I’m Persephone’s doppelganger, from Roman mythology. Persephone left Hades centuries ago because as much as she liked it down here, she couldn’t put up with his incessant whining about gods only know what.” Proserpina grinned. “I’m much more tolerant, and some might say I love it down here even more.”

“W—what’s with the sword?” Ethan asked nervously.

Proserpina laughed. “Oh, this?” She sheathed it. “My husband gave it to me in case you needed to be ‘dealt with.’” She eyed him closely, looking him up and down a few times. “But I don’t really think we’ll have a problem. Do you?”

Ethan shook his head.

She laughed again. “Good. Now please, come. My husband does not like to be kept waiting.”

***

Hades’ throne room was arguably better than Hecate’s. It was an explosion of black-and-scarlet mix: the banners, the stain-glass windows, the busts. But it worked somehow, in a weird, twisted, neo-gothic way. His throne was probably the most noticeable thing about the whole room, though. It was pure scarlet, but see-through, like it was made of crystalline ruby. Come to think of it, it probably was. Gods probably went for that sort of stuff like candy, just because they could. Light shimmered out from the throne, illuminating the floor-length stain-glass windows behind them and making them shine brighter.

Atop the throne sat Hades himself. Overall, he didn’t seem too imposing. He actually kind of reminded Ethan of Bono. The leather jacket, the skinny jeans, the earrings, the short-but-spiked hair…even the glasses. It was unsettling, and it made Ethan think: what if Hades was Bono?

That was a truly chilling thought, although it was oddly comforting to think about how the god of the Underworld cared so much for the environment.

“Ah, Ethan Locke,” Hades said, stepping up off his throne. Ethan had to resist the urge to laugh. He even had the Irish accent. “Welcome to my humble abode. I trust your ride here was comfortable?”

“As comfortable as being kidnapped by the Furies can be,” Ethan replied.

Hades smirked. “Snarky.” He snapped his fingers, and pain suddenly shot up through Ethan’s right knee. He cried out and fell to the floor. “I don’t like that.”

Ethan looked up, wincing, and saw Proserpina walk over to Hades and hand him the sword. “I didn’t need this, just like I said. He didn’t fight at all.”

Hades took the sword, and then it vanished in a flurry of shadows. “Better to be safe than sorry, my dear. It’s like I always say—preparation puts a sword in your hand rather than your back.” Ethan saw Proserpina exasperatedly mouth the creed along with Hades, as if she’d heard it thousands of times before. She probably had. 

But still, she put on a sickly sweet smile that would’ve given Ethan cavities if he’d been closer. “You’re right, my husband. You’re always right.”

“Hmph. Of course I am,” Hades said with a wave of his hand, forcing Ethan back to his feet. Hades started walking closer to Ethan. “Now, Ethan Locke, I have many things that I need to be doing right now, but instead I’m here with you, so I’m gonna make this quick. Do you know why you’re here?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, allow me to enlighten you, then,” Hades said, close enough now that Ethan could smell his breath. Cherries? “You’re here because Tiamat instructed me to capture you. Easy enough with my Furies. But, she also said that once you were here, I could do one of three things: turn you, kill you, or imprison you. Only one of those doesn’t end in your death. Can you guess which one?”

“I’m thinking the turning,” Ethan guessed.

Hades grinned mirthlessly. “Precisely.” He walked to Ethan’s side and put an arm around him, like they were old pals. “Tiamat recognizes your power, Ethan Locke. Killing you is a definite last resort for her, because if you die then all that power is extinguished. Wasted. And she doesn’t want that, believe me.”

Ethan had a good idea of where this was going.

“So, now that you’re here, I’ll offer you a choice,” Hades continued. “Because see, the thing is, the Chevaliers have no hope of winning this war. They just don’t have the numbers we do. Your best chance of surviving this war is to abandon them; then Tiamat won’t have any reason to kill you. 

“Join us. Take part in Tiamat’s ranks. I can promise you a high-ranking position, possibly even a general. And she says that you will still be able to keep your position as He Who Is One With All, as Hecate’s prophecy calls you.” Ethan had heard that name before. Personally, he didn’t like it. “And, on top of all that, you’ll be given a kingship in her new world order. Tiamat promises all these things to you and more, if you only turn to the power of chaos.” Hades grinned again. “So. What do you say?”

Ethan was horrified to find that he was considering it. Joining Tiamat meant escaping his destiny and probably sparing himself a whole lot of pain and suffering. He had no doubt that she would keep her promises and spare him and give him all those titles and gifts. It was tempting.

But if he defected to Tiamat’s side in the war, then he would be betraying Malina and Andrew. And that wasn’t right; he couldn’t do that to his friends. Plus, Ethan had been in this world of gods for long enough to know that you couldn’t escape your destiny so easily, if at all. And if that wasn’t enough to convince him, joining the forces of chaos meant he would be no better than Sehaqeq, the Furies, or even Bon—Hades. Hades, not Bono. But his point still stood. His decision was made.

“Tell Tiamat she can go shit in her hat,” Ethan shot back.

“What?” Proserpina asked, confused. “W—what does that even mean?”

“It means he’s rejected Tiamat’s kind offer,” Hades said steely. “And since that was a one-time only offer, I guess that means you’ve made your choice, Ethan Locke.”

“Do we kill him now?” Proserpina asked. Ethan couldn’t make out just what her tone was; was it glee, or apprehension, or nervousness?

Hades smirked. “No. I’ve decided I don’t want this stupid little mortal to have a quick death. We’ll imprison him, and that way we can watch him die a slow, slow death.” He patted Ethan on the back. “Won’t that be fun?”

“No.”

“Well, it will be for me,” Hades said, snapping his fingers. “Charon!” 

Immediately, an old, bony man in a black hooded cloak appeared in front of them. Hades shoved Ethan forward, and the man caught him. “Charon, please take our prisoner to the cells. And do be sure to give him the moldiest one we have. You haven’t been cleaning them, I trust?”

“No, sir,” Charon wheezed. Ethan looked up into Charon’s face to see that the guy wasn’t just bony; he was nothing but bones. Charon was nothing more than a skeleton in a cloak.

“Excellent,” Hades said, walking back to his throne. He seemed disinterested in Ethan now. “Now go, go take him away. Oh, and thanks for making this so easy, Ethan Locke. It really helps out my schedule.”

Charon did as he was told, dragging a struggling Ethan off towards a side door. “You can’t do this!” Ethan shouted, furious. “It’s not right!”

Hades laughed. “Not right? No, I suppose it isn’t. But then again, right and wrong are pretty gray areas nowadays, aren’t they?” He chuckled. “And where does it say that I can’t do this? I’m a god, you’re a mortal. I can do whatever I please with you. End of story.” He waved. “So long, Ethan Locke. Oh, and no killing yourself while you’re in the cell. I want your death to be slow, and anyway, suicide is against the rules down here.”

Charon ripped open the door, revealing a long, spiral, concrete stairway that led off into the darkness. “Come, now, in you go,” Charon said, shoving Ethan in and pulling the door closed behind them. Ethan tried to beat Charon back and make his escape, but for a skeleton, the guy was really strong. Charon dug his bony fingers into Ethan’s shoulders, restricting all arm movement and cutting off any hope for an escape.

The last thing Ethan saw before the door closed completely was Proserpina’s face. She was smiling at him like the two of them were sharing a secret. He caught her eye.

And she winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suspense! Drama! What will befall our hero next? How will he escape from Hades' prison? Never fear, dear reader, all will be revealed in due time. But for now, I hope anybody reading this enjoys the update. I really liked writing the scene between Ethan and Alecto when they're talking about Hades, because I've never really viewed Hades as a bad guy, just as someone who became what the world turned him into. In fact, in ancient myth, he's actually a pretty decent fellow. 
> 
> But I digress. Y'all probably know how to pronounce Hades, but if not, I'll include it here with the other two pronunciations:  
> Hades = HAY-deez  
> Proserpina = pro-ser-PEE-nuh  
> Charon = CARE-on
> 
> The song is "Locked Up" by Akon.
> 
> Well, I guess that's it for me for now. I'll see y'all next time!


	12. Folsom Prison Blues

Prison sucked.

The cells really were moldy; Hades hadn’t been kidding about that part. But what he hadn’t mentioned was the fact that there weren’t any beds, any form of toilet, or windows. There were no cell bars, just a solid stone slab that Charon had walked through, bringing Ethan with him. It was nothing more than a dusty, moldy, and dark—Ethan’s eyes had somehow adjusted to the complete lack of light—stone room. 

And Ethan was dying in there.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there; time was meaningless in a place where there was no way to tell it. But it must have been at least a week since Charon’s last visit, because his stomach was absolutely empty. Every so often, Charon would appear through the wall and give Ethan a single pomegranate seed before disappearing. Ethan would eat the seed, and that would somehow sustain him until Charon came with the next seed. He’d known that pomegranate seeds were a big thing with the Underworld, but he’d had no idea they could sustain a soul for so long. But Ethan had a sickening feeling that eventually Charon would stop coming, and then he would finally die of starvation in this concrete tomb.

That wasn’t to say his cell was soundproof, however. No, he could always hear the screaming and moaning of other despairing souls imprisoned in cells around him. They never stopped, and the awful, red-eyed hellhounds who served as prison guards were constantly howling to get the souls to shut up. It was all Ethan could do to keep from going insane, the noise was so intense. Muffled through the stone, but intense nonetheless.

So, yeah. Prison really sucked. And it looked like Ethan was going to die in there. He was close to making his peace with death by that point, though. The only regret he had was mostly just that he had failed. Failed his friends, failed Hecate, failed the world. Tiamat would rise now, and he would be long dead by the time it happened, rotting to nothing more than a skeleton like Charon in this horrible, horrible place.

The thing he missed most, though, was his mother. The guilt he felt whenever he thought about her was powerful. His roommate, murdered. Him, missing. His mother probably crying herself to sleep every night because the not knowing what had happened to him was too much. There were no words to describe how much Ethan wished he could have contacted her, just to let her know he was okay. But he couldn’t. The world he lived in now was too dangerous. If his enemies found out about her, then she could be captured, tortured, even killed. Ethan couldn’t let that happen. So, as much as it killed him, he had abandoned her for her own good. And she didn’t even know it.

Ethan had thought he knew suffering when he was staying up all night studying for exams, or waiting in the long lunch lines. No. This was what suffering was. Slowly dying in a windowless, door-less cell, with not a single person that he cared about knowing what had happened to him. Ethan had almost made his peace with death. But his suffering would not let him go.

He could see now why the other souls in the surrounding cells were constantly crying and moaning. Their suffering wouldn’t let them go, either. Because that was what the Underworld was truly made for: suffering. That was why the Fields of Punishment and Asphodel would always be bigger than Elysium. Suffering was what fueled not only life, but afterlife. And suffering would follow humanity into eternity.

The stone slab suddenly shimmered for a few moments, and Ethan watched from where he sat slumped against the far wall. Charon appeared, watching Ethan intently as he slipped his skeleton hand into his robe. He pulled out a single pomegranate seed, and laid it down on the floor. Ethan was about to go for it when Charon said, “Stop.”

Ethan looked up at him, confused. But then he watched as Charon reached back into his cloak and pulled out two more pomegranate seeds, laying them next to the first. Now Ethan was even more confused. But then:

“These are the last.” That was all Charon said before turning and walking back through the wall. It shimmered as he passed through, illuminating Ethan’s cell for a few moments before he was plunged back into its darkness. It took his eyes a few moments to readjust. And it took his brain even longer to register what Charon had said.

These are the last. That undoubtedly meant that these three pomegranate seeds were the last he would ever receive. He’d felt some hope at Charon producing the extra two seeds—Ethan had thought maybe the skeleton man was on his side—but now that was crashing down. He cursed Hades for toying with him like this. But the god seemed to have had his fun now; Ethan would die soon, likely within the week. Hades knew it would require an inordinate amount of self-control to refrain from eating all three seeds all at once. This was his way of putting his prisoners’ fate in their own hands, and watching them fail.

And Ethan despised him for that. So he vowed he wouldn’t give Hades the satisfaction of watching him die quickly; Ethan wouldn’t even eat the first seed until he absolutely had to. And as it stood, he could last for a little bit longer. So he inched his way back over to the wall, and sat against it, focusing on a crack in the opposite wall rather than the seeds.

Eventually, he fell asleep. Because what else was there to do?

***

Ethan woke up with a start, feeling dizzy and weak. His stomach was twisted in pain, completely empty at that point. He slumped over onto the ground, light-headed and his vision swimming. He crawled towards the seeds madly, scrabbling ever closer with his hand outstretched. By this point, because they had been on the floor for so long, they were covered in dust and mold. But Ethan knew they would still have the power to sustain him until he needed the next one. They always did.

His fingers closed around a seed, and he pulled it into his mouth. He chewed once, and swallowed.

Immediately, the effects of his hunger started to fade. His dizziness stopped, his vision cleared, and the pain in his stomach went away. He laid there on the floor for a few more seconds, trying to catch his breath. That had been a real scare. Maybe waiting to eat the first seed hadn’t been such a good idea. 

But he’d probably angered Hades slightly by managing to stay alive. Little victories.

The hunger had been the only thing that had woken him up. He was still tired. So he fell back asleep there on the floor, drifting off into a world of nightmares where the real nightmares of his current world couldn’t touch him. His horrific dreamland saved him from his horrific reality.

The devil he knew.

***

Ethan didn’t know how long it had been since Charon’s final visit. All he did know was that he had just eaten the third seed. His fate was officially sealed; after what must have been days of holding out for as long as he could between the second and third, he’d finally caved and eaten it. His hunger was gone. But soon, it would be back, and this time it would kill him.

He imagined Hades laughing on that stupid throne of his and spit on the floor. Screw that guy. Ethan was so gonna haunt him. And Proserpina, too.

She’d winked at him before Charon had essentially dragged him off to his death. Had she known what that would do to Ethan? In the early days of his imprisonment, he’d held onto that wink. It had filled him with the hope that she was on his side somehow, that she would free him as quickly as possible and within the week he would be back with his friends, traveling the realms and saving the world. 

But no. She’d done nothing. Proserpina had remained subservient to Hades. Ethan had read the myths about Persephone and Hades; Persephone had often manipulated Hades by pretending to be his dutiful wife so she could get what she wanted and screw him over. If Proserpina was the Roman form of this woman, born of a place where stratagems and lying to benefit yourself were a part of daily life, then Proserpina was likely even more manipulative. Ethan knew she could’ve found a way to free him if she’d really wanted to. But as deceitful as she was, she was even crueler. As the seconds rotting away in the cell had passed by, Ethan had come to the realization that Proserpina wanted to watch him starve. And perhaps that was what had truly eaten away at his sense of hope. Not the despair of being imprisoned, but the slow realization that no one was going to save him.

He would die down there, and then Hades and Proserpina would have a laugh and a drink.

Ethan crawled over to the wall and sat against it. His breathing evened out as the acceptance of his inevitable death washed over him. The moans of the other imprisoned souls and the howling of the hellhounds faded away ever so slightly as Ethan finally admitted to himself that he was ready to die.

But wait. Something suddenly pulled him back from the brink far enough to realize something: the moans and howls weren’t just fading away. They had stopped altogether. Ethan strained his ears, listening intently. 

A sudden scuffling noise. Growling, followed by a shrill yip and a thud. And then the stone slab shimmered, and in walked a hellhound.

Ethan pressed himself against the wall, his steady breathing now shallow and quick. His eyes darted around the room for a few seconds, looking for anything he could possibly use as a weapon. But Hades had left nothing like rocks or stalagmites or anything that could be used as a suicide weapon in the cell. Like he’d said: suicide was against the rules.

But then Ethan noticed that the hellhound wasn’t attacking. In fact, it was just standing there, staring at him with its alert yellow eyes that held more intelligence than Ethan could see. Something sparked in Ethan’s mind, but he couldn’t grab at it just yet; he was still too nervous at the hellhound, which was starting to walk closer to him. Its short, spotted fur was bloody from whatever had just occurred outside. Ethan suddenly had the sickening feeling that maybe Proserpina had come to save him, only to be cut down by one of her own servants.

And then the thought, the one that had eluded him, suddenly forced itself into Ethan’s conscious: hellhounds had red eyes.

The beast smirked at him, as if it were congratulating him on figuring out it wasn’t a hellhound. But if it wasn’t, then what was it? He inspected it for a few moments, while it never stopped staring at him. Once Ethan had gotten over his initial fear of the “hellhound,” his mind cleared up and he finally recognized the beast for what it was: a hyena.

The hyena laughed at him, rearing up onto its hind legs and—surprisingly—staying there. And then Ethan watched as it transformed. Its legs elongated into human legs and arms, and its head flattened out into a human head. The fabric of a burnous, a woolen cloth that men often wore in Africa, rolled out from the hyena’s body. Within seconds, a young African man of about Ethan’s age was standing in front of him. A man Ethan recognized.

“You,” he breathed.

Zevoa the hyena god grinned at him. “Yes, Ethan Locke. It is I, come to save you from your fate.”

“What—how—”

“The hellhounds were easy to kill,” Zevoa said, absentmindedly rubbing at a bloodstain on his burnous. “Most things are, when you’re a hyena. And anyone can enter through that slab. Unlike what Hades would have you believe, it is not only Charon who can do it.” He smirked at Ethan. “You could have walked out at literally any time. I mean, the hellhounds would have killed you, but you still could have walked out.”

Ethan wanted to kick himself. And Zevoa, too, kind of.

“But let’s not dwell on that,” Zevoa said. “I’m here to free you, so that’s what I intend to do.”

“Why?” Ethan asked, slowly standing up. “Malina and Andrew told me not to trust you.”

“Oh, that’s what they told you, huh?” Zevoa scoffed. “Maybe Malina should think twice about her own status before telling people not to trust someone.”

“What?”

“Unimportant,” Zevoa said with a wave of his hand. “As for the why, well, I was sent here. By Proserpina. With specific instructions to get you out. Which I can’t do if you continue to just stand here,” he added, glaring.

Ethan could have cried, probably. So Proserpina hadn’t abandoned him; she’d likely just been waiting for the safest time to call on Zevoa and get him to rescue Ethan. She really had been on his side. He would still probably kick her ass the next time he saw her, though. She’d put him through a lot of suffering and that really wasn’t okay, even if she came through in the end.

Zevoa sighed. “Can we go now? Please? It really is quite depressing down here.”

“Hang on,” Ethan said. “I mean, yeah, you came to rescue me, but I’m still not quite sure I trust you. You worked for Tiamat in the last Chaos War. Hades works for Tiamat. What if he sent you here to tell me Proserpina sent you, and then you lead me into an ambush?”

Zevoa looked thoughtful. “I suppose that could happen. But Proserpina gave me this, as a gesture,” he added, producing what Ethan was stunned to see was the octagonal key Hecate had given him. “She said the Furies took it from you, and wanted you to have it back.” In all the commotion, Ethan had never noticed it was missing. He took it from Zevoa and pocketed it. 

“You don’t have to trust me,” Zevoa said matter-of-factly. “Frankly, I don’t really care if you do or if you don’t. But trust that Proserpina sent me. That thing is important; I can feel the power radiating from it. Why would Hades want you to have that back?”

Well, Ethan thought, he might be waiting outside just to take it from me again after he ambushes and kills me. But he decided to brush those thoughts aside. Sometimes you just had to take a leap of faith, and for Ethan, the leap had never been farther.

But he still had to jump. So he said, “Fine. Get me out of here.”

Zevoa grinned. “Now we’re talking.” He grabbed Ethan’s wrist and pulled him through the stone slab, taking the two of them into the outside corridor, where the moans of the souls from inside their cells were even louder and more desperate now.

“Please, help us!” one shouted.

“Take me with you!” another cried.

“Okay, now I’m gonna make a portal for you to where Malina and Andrew are,” Zevoa said. “It won’t be exact, so once you get there, you’ll have to look for them. But that shouldn’t be too hard, I don’t think.”

“Alright,” Ethan said. “Where are they?”

Zevoa shrugged. “Hell if I know. I’m just locking onto their current general coordinates.” He snapped his fingers, and then a portal appeared in the wall. “They could be anywhere, really.”

“How did you get out?!” a soul cried. 

“Please, take me with you!”

“You can’t just leave us here to suffer!”

“You can get out on your own, you know,” Ethan called. “Anyone can walk through those walls.”

The souls fell silent for a few moments. Then one of them said, “No, they can’t.”

Ethan was about to argue, but Zevoa silenced him. “Stop. Don’t worry about it; they’ve been down here too long to believe you. I’ll free them.” He smiled a positively evil smile. “I’ll need to create a diversion anyway to distract Hades from your getaway, and what better than a mass jailbreak?”

Ethan grinned. “You know, I think I like you.”

“Duly appreciated.”

Ethan was about to jump into the portal when something occurred to him. "Weren't those pomegrante seeds Charon was feeding me?"

Zevoa smirked. "I know what you're thinking. Yes, eating pomegranate seeds means you can't leave the Undeworld, but those weren't pomegranate seeds. They were dried-up cherries, enchanted to soothe your hunger just as the seeds do. Courtesy of Proserpina." 

Ethan grinned. She really had thought of everything, it seemed. But in order to make her deception of Hades worth it, he had to get out of there. He turned back towards the portal, but Zevoa suddenly stopped him and said, “Ethan, wait.”

“What? I’m kind of in the middle of my daring escape here.”

“Just another piece of advice,” Zevoa said cryptically. “Remember this: when the crystal sky takes over, use the stars to light your way.”

Ethan was so confused by that that he just decided to not address it. He thanked Zevoa for getting him out, and then turned towards the portal. He, a now-escaped convict, was about to jump into a completely unknown location, in search of two friends whom he’d abandoned, all thanks to the help of a traitor.

Ethan smiled to himself as he flung himself into the portal. At that moment, he wouldn’t have had his life be any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's free! Hurray! I debated keeping him in prison for longer than just one chapter, but that seemed a bit tedious, and with the amount of prospective chapters this thing is projected to have (somewhere around 40?) I figured I should move things along as quickly as I can, without moving them too fast. I hope I've done a decent job of that so far; if not, feel free to tell me! I'll do what I can to fix it. 
> 
> But now that Ethan's free, he's gotta get back to Malina and Andrew. Will he be able to do it? Probably...but that comes in the next chapter. 
> 
> I don't think there's any new pronunciations for this chapter, so the song is "Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny Cash (if you didn't know that already, lol). See y'all next time!


	13. The Kindness of Strangers

Ethan tumbled through the portal and almost got run over by a car. The guy honked at him and swerved out of the way, shouting through his window, “Oi! Watch where you’re bloody going!” It was in that moment that Ethan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was in England.

He scrambled to his feet and ran to the curb, getting out of the street. Passerby stared at him like he’d just grown a second head as they walked by him, hurriedly getting out of the way of the odd young man who had just, as far as they knew, thrown himself into the street. That was the thing about people that Ethan suddenly found reassuring—they were never very likely to see what was happening, nor to even care. He was invisible for now, and that was beyond a good thing.

Ethan walked on and looked around. Within seconds he spotted the familiar, iconic clock-tower that was Big Ben. London. Ethan was in London. He grinned. He’d been to London before. He probably still knew his way around. Granted, it had been five years since his and his mother’s summer vacation there, but still—

It suddenly hit Ethan that London was a big city, and he was searching for two specific people in it. That wasn’t going to be very easy. Ethan tried to do the same thing Zevoa had done—creating a portal locking onto their coordinates—but it wasn’t working. He wasn’t skilled enough, he supposed. So the only solution left was just to walk.

Ethan set off down the sidewalk, keeping a firm eye out for anyone who looked even remotely like Malina and Andrew. But, as the minutes ticked by and turned into hours as Ethan rounded street corner after street corner, his mind started to wander. 

He thought about the piece of cryptic advice Zevoa had given him: When the crystal sky takes over, use the stars to light your way. Ethan had to admit: he had zero ideas as to what the hell that meant. He was tempted to brush it off as nothing, but something in the back of his mind told him not to. He realized now that Zevoa’s last “piece of advice” had been prophetic. When fury overtakes you, I think we’ll meet again. Fury had overtaken him, in a way; the Furies had kidnapped him and dragged him down to the Underworld. And then he and Zevoa had met again. If Zevoa was in the business of spitting out prophecies, then Ethan would have preferred they be a bit clearer. He had no clue what the crystal sky was, or how the stars would help him. Yet another mystery in his insane new life.

Ethan passed by a small electronics store and was suddenly aware of the fact that Malina and/or Andrew probably had a cellphone. He was about to go in, feeling excited and hopeful, when he realized that he wouldn’t have the number. And anyway, he didn’t have any money, either. He told himself to get both of those things when he found his friends again.

If he found them again. Zevoa had portaled Ethan to their general current location—London—at the time of Ethan’s liberation from the Underworld. That was at least two hours ago. For all Ethan knew, Malina and Andrew had finished up with what they needed to do in London and left for whatever was next. Maybe they’d even already found the first ring, without him, and would go on to find the rest, without him. They would stop Tiamat, without him. And the world would go on, all thanks to Malina and Andrew and Ethan would fade into distant memory as their unnamed sidekick who had disappeared early on in the quest.

It unsettled Ethan to think that Malina and Andrew had just abandoned him. Granted, he had disappeared in Glasgow, but he hadn’t been gone for that long, had he? Ethan couldn’t possibly have been gone long enough for them to have forgotten about him. He was sure that they’d be looking for him. They liked him, he thought. He was their friend. They’d already survived several life-or-death situations together: Sehaqeq, Hecate’s anger, Sehaqeq again. Ethan was pretty sure that that was enough to cement some sort of bond between them. So they couldn’t have just left him behind.

Right?

Ethan suddenly noticed that the sun seemed to be going down. Then he realized that he had no idea what time it was, or what day it was, even. Knowing it would look strange, he stopped a woman on the street and asked her just that.

“Seven-thirty in the evening, on a Wednesday,” she replied in thick Cockney, looking at him strangely. “You sure you’re alright, mate? You look a bit worse for wear.”

Ethan smiled reassuringly at her. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” Wednesday. He’d disappeared on a Sunday. So it had hopefully only been three days up in the mortal world (assuming a week hadn’t already gone by), despite it feeling longer in the Underworld. He chose to remain optimistic about that part. It made him feel better; his chances of finding Malina and Andrew were increased now. 

He walked on a bit further before he heard her shout, “Hey, wait up!” He turned to see her jogging back towards him, waving a few pound-notes in front of her. “Take this,” she said when she caught up with him. 

Ethan was about to protest when she sighed and said, “Take ’em, dammit! Look at you, you’re all skin and bones. At least get yourself something to eat, okay?”

Reluctantly, Ethan took the notes. He was stunned to see that she’d just given him fifty pounds. “Fifty? Th—that’s too much, I can’t—”

“Too late, you took ’em already,” the woman said with a smile. “Really, go get yourself some supper. You look like you need it.” She didn’t know just how right she was. Ethan had been ignoring his searing hunger, but now that the prospect of food was imminent, it would not be denied. “It’s of no use to me, anyway. I’ve just been given a raise at my job, so it’s just extra quid to burn.” She smiled at Ethan, and he was suddenly filled with a warm, giddy feeling at the sight of her kindness. “Figure I’ll get my good deed for the day out of the way now.”

Ethan thanked her vehemently at least five times before she finally left him, writing down directions to her favorite restaurant—Gillray’s Steakhouse and Bar—on his hand. As Ethan followed them closely, he just couldn’t help but marvel at the woman’s kindness. She’d given a complete stranger—one who looked homeless and gaunt and starving and basically half-dead already—fifty pounds, just so he could get himself something to eat. And he’d never even learned her name. 

The kindness of strangers truly was powerful, Ethan supposed.

The restaurant was delicious, and just barely affordable with fifty pounds. His stomach won out over his brain, and Ethan ordered a double bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries and coleslaw, topped off with a Coke and some mousse for dessert. He wolfed it all down; he was out of the restaurant within the hour, having spent forty of the fifty pounds the woman had given him.

Which meant that he had no money left to get a room at any sort of motel. In his desperation to get real food into his stomach, he’d wasted all his money. The sun was setting fast now, and it would be dark in a few minutes. Ethan needed a place to sleep. 

So he swallowed his pride and descended into the London Underground entrance in St. James’s Park. He wandered around for a bit before finally settling down on a cold metal bench that a man had just gotten up off of. It killed Ethan to admit it, but he valued the residual warmth. It…well, it felt nice. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Then he heard a gruff voice say, “Get off there, kid, before some copper sees you.” Ethan opened his eyes and looked up to see an enormous, grungy man in a tattered overcoat and sporting a huge, thick black beard, standing over him from behind the bench. Ethan immediately got to his feet, scared, but then, to his surprise, the man laughed.

“Don’t be so jumpy, kid,” the man said, chuckling. It was a deep, hearty laugh that surprisingly made Ethan feel a bit more comfortable. “I’m only telling you, you shouldn’t sleep out in the open like this. Damn police don’t like it. I mean, they’ll arrest you, and you’ll spend the night in a nice comfy cell, but good luck getting back out. System’s a mess.”

“What do you mean?” Ethan asked, confused.

“I mean,” the man said, stepping around the bench and in front of Ethan, “that if you’re gonna sleep down here, pick somewhere a bit less obvious. Cops won’t nab you if you’re not obvious; only when you’re ‘a disturbance to the public,’” he added with a note of disdain in his voice. 

Now Ethan was doubly confused. “So—”

“Where do you sleep?” the man finished with a grin. “Here, I’ll show ya.” He gestured for Ethan to follow him, and walked a few paces away before he turned and saw that Ethan was staying right where he was. The man sighed. “Look, kid, I’m trying to help you here. You can trust me. I’ve helped dozens of homeless kids like you.”

Ethan blinked. “Like me?”

“Yeah, you know—fresh out of uni, nowhere to turn,” the man said with a shrug and sigh. “It’s a sad thing that happens sometimes. Most kids, though, they think the only places in the city a homeless can catch a wink is down in the Underground. So they come down here, and if I happen to find ’em, then I help ’em until they get back on their feet again.” He smiled at Ethan again. “My name’s Rocko, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Ethan.”

Rocko beckoned again. “Nice name. Now, come on, Ethan. I won’t bite. I promise.”

Ethan stood there for a few moments longer, debating silently whether to trust this Rocko guy. It all just seemed so random, that this guy would show up out of nowhere just to help Ethan. But then again, Ethan had already been helped earlier that day by a stranger. It was thanks to her that his stomach was full again. Maybe hospitality was a big thing in London.

So he decided to trust Rocko, and followed him. Rocko led Ethan through the train station and over to what looked like a supply closet, with a heavy metal door and a fierce-looking lock on it. “Keep watch,” Rocko instructed, slipping a key out of his overcoat pocket. Ethan did as he was told, looking around to make sure no one was watching. 

The lock clicked, and Rocko pushed the door open slightly as he dropped the key back into his pocket. “Alright, now go on in,” he said. Ethan hesitated briefly, then figured that if Rocko really was bad news, Ethan had magic on his side. But what if Rocko was someone else entirely? What if Rocko wasn’t human, and this was a trap just like the one with the Furies? Ethan wanted to kick himself for not thinking of that. But it was too late now; he was already here. All he could do was just follow Rocko’s instructions and hope for the best.

Ethan ducked under Rocko’s arm and through the doorway. And he suddenly entered into a huge room that was far from a supply closet. Makeshift bunk beds lined the walls, the warm glow of several hanging lanterns filled the room, and the few chattering voices of the people in the bunk beds stopped as Ethan entered.

Rocko walked in behind him and shut the door. Then he clapped Ethan on the shoulder, smiling, and said, “Welcome to our humble home, Ethan.”

The next few minutes were a whirlwind for Ethan. He met the other residents of Camp Rocko—the name given to this huge, abandoned maintenance room—and had trouble remembering them all: Olivia and Tom were homeless students too, Nadia was an Indian immigrant who’d been recently evicted from her apartment and spoke broken English, Wesley was a former businessman who’d lost everything due to his boss being involved in several Ponzi schemes, Patti was a middle-aged woman who’d divorced her husband and literally lost everything she owned in the custody battle, and Rocko himself had used to be a slick-shot actor who had been blacklisted and eventually cut out of the business after a few bombed movies. Ethan was given the bed above Nadia, and Patti gave him a bag of chips in case he woke up feeling hungry during the night.

Ethan was stunned at how easily he’d been accepted by the homeless community of the London Underground, and even more so at how much of a community they really were. This small group of people, with Rocko at its head, was as much a family as anyone else; many had come and gone, but the beds would always be open and ready to welcome anyone who needed them. 

Needless to say, Ethan fell asleep that night feeling safer than he had in weeks.

***

“You sure you gotta go so soon?” Tom asked Ethan in the morning. 

“Unfortunately,” Ethan said. “There’s someone I need to find in the city, and if I find them today, then I won’t be back.”

“How do you know you’ll even find them, though?” Olivia argued. “For all you know, they could be long gone.”

Ethan had considered that many times over. “I know. But I have to try.”

Nadia nodded knowingly at him. “Courage.”

“She means you’re pretty brave going out for the day on your own,” Wesley translated. “Most people don’t take kindly to the homeless. Are you sure you don’t want any of us to go with you?”

Ethan nodded. “Thanks, but I’m sure.”

“Well, if you don’t find ’em,” Rocko said, clapping Ethan on the shoulder, “you’re always welcome back here. Stay as long as you need to, you hear?”

Ethan nodded again, and, to his own surprise, gave Rocko a hug. “I really appreciate this, Rocko. Thanks so much.”

Rocko chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, kid. And if you find who you’re looking for, and don’t come back…well, then this is goodbye. I hope you get back on your feet, kid.”

All of the members of Camp Rocko gave Ethan a quick hug before he finally left. Ethan had to admit, he was a bit teary-eyed as he was leaving. Although he’d only been there for one night, this random, out-of-the-blue group of homeless people had shown him more kindness than he’d seen in the longest time. The last day for Ethan had been one hell of a ride: breaking out of the Underworld, getting fifty pounds for dinner, finding a nice, safe place to sleep with other people around him. 

All thanks to the kindness of strangers.

***

It started raining at about noon, and Ethan had had to resist the urge to burn up his money by buying an umbrella or a jacket. Instead, he took shelter in a coffee shop, and bought himself the cheapest snack he could—a cup of water and a cookie, totaling out to 3 pounds—so he could sit there and wait out the rain. 

It stopped at about three in the afternoon, and the moment it did, Ethan was back out on the streets, still searching for Malina and Andrew. As he strolled through a park he didn’t know the name of, he passed by a big sign advertising upcoming events; things like a rock concert taking place in the park a week from then, a fair coming to the park in a month’s time, and an ongoing event at Simon Drake’s House of Magic: _The Great Hanuman! Watch this man change his shape, lift twenty men, and alter your perception of reality itself!_ Ethan had to scoff at the last one. Those things were never legit.

As he turned away from the sign, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a woman walking briskly down the path. Her long black hair flew out behind her from the breeze, and she turned briefly to pat it back down, annoyance etched on a face Ethan would know anywhere.

Malina. He’d found her.

Bursting with joy and excitement, Ethan called out her name, but she was too far away and couldn’t hear him. He rushed forward, making his way down the path and shouting her name over and over. But still, she couldn’t hear him.

She rounded a corner exiting the park and Ethan lost sight of her. He picked up the pace, running down the path and bursting out of the park and back into the city. He looked around for some sign of her, walking down the sidewalk in the direction she’d gone. 

Then he saw her again, turning into an alleyway. He pushed forward, apologizing to the passerby that he had to barge through as he went. Within seconds, Ethan was turning into the same alleyway. 

But she was already gone. Ethan looked around, confused. Impossible; no way she could have gone all the way through the alleyway and to the street beyond in the time it had taken him to catch up with her. Unless…

She’d portaled away. Malina had gone somewhere discreet to create the portal, and then left. Ethan felt his heart sink down into his stomach as his hopes plummeted. He’d been so close to finally finding her, and now she was gone, off on the next leg of the quest. 

Feeling lost, sad, and defeated, Ethan turned to make his way back to Camp Rocko, this time to stay there indefinitely. But the second he’d turned around, a fist connected with his face.

Ethan fell to the ground, dazed and bleeding from his nose and mouth. Before he could react, his assailant was on him, shouting, “Who are you and why are you following me?” Ethan was busy blinking the dizziness out of his eyes; he couldn’t answer. “Answer me!”

Once Ethan’s vision was clear, he looked up into the face of the very person he’d been following. “Malina?”

She looked back down at him. Confusion, disbelief, anger, and delight rippled across her face all in a split second. “Ethan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so uh....I recognize that this chapter is not the most believable one, especially with Rocko and the mini-homeless community living in the London Underground, but I mean...I had a lot of fun writing it? Idk I really have no explanation for it. Maybe I'll find a way to make sense of it later on but for now I guess you're just gonna have to take it at face value ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> There's no new pronunciations this chapter, I don't think, so the song is "The Kindness of Strangers" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seed. Keep in mind that half of these songs I've never actually listened to, and I'm only using them because the song titles fit the chapter's theme. I'm not endorsing the songs, just providing the information for them if you wanna check em out on your own and see if you like them. I should probably listen to them eventually, just to see what I'm promoting...
> 
> But anyway! That's it from me for now. See y'all next time!


	14. Back In Black

“Two months? Are you kidding me?”

Andrew could hear the incredulity and vague irritation in Ethan’s voice. Andrew could understand it, too; it was likely that time had passed differently for Ethan down in the Underworld, and to him it couldn’t have possibly been two months. But it had. For two months, Ethan had been missing. And for two months, Malina and Andrew had been in a state of emotional turmoil—for different reasons, of course.

They had been trading stories for over an hour in the hotel room Malina and Andrew had gotten. Ethan had told them all about the experiences he’d had while away from them: the little girl in the museum who’d turned out to be Alecto, leader of the vicious Furies. His talk with Alecto on the edge of the Fields of Punishment. Meeting Proserpina. Hades’s condemnation of Ethan and Ethan’s subsequent imprisonment. Ethan’s spiral into hopelessness and depression down in his cell (a state, Andrew suspected, that Ethan had not yet fully come out of). Zevoa’s rescue of Ethan. 

Andrew had to be wary of Zevoa’s true intentions when Ethan talked about how the hyena god had saved him from his imprisonment. Zevoa had never been a trustworthy god; it all had to do with his heritage as a hyena. Hyenas were deceitful, cunning, and vicious creatures. Zevoa was no better. But Ethan had told them about how if Proserpina saw fit to trust Zevoa, then they should, as well. Andrew would for the time being, he supposed, since Zevoa had rescued Ethan. But it likely wouldn’t last.

And then Ethan told them about how he’d been fed by a random woman on the street, and even given shelter by a group of homeless people. Andrew could believe the woman giving him money, but the homeless giving him a place to sleep and showing him that much kindness? At least one of them had to be a god, recognizing Ethan’s importance and influencing the others to take him in and let him stay with them. Or maybe they were an entire group of gods. But, in Andrew’s mind, there was no way every person in that group was mortal.

After Ethan’s story, it was time for Malina and Andrew to tell theirs. Ethan seemed visibly hurt that the two of them had left him to rot in the Underworld. And that hurt Andrew, more than the other boy could have imagined.

But Ethan didn’t know the whole story. The moment after finding the Lexicon, Andrew had noticed Ethan was missing. So while Malina was getting the Enigmatic Lexicon they had come for out of its glass casing, Andrew had searched the entire museum twice over, and found nothing. Ethan was gone.

Naturally, the two of them had started to panic. They’d contacted Hecate, and she had told them to stay calm while she called in a general search for Ethan. But there was no way Malina and Andrew could stay calm and sit idly by. They literally scoured the worlds for him. For an entire month, starting at Yale—he might have gone home, they theorized—and working their way outwards, Malina and Andrew tirelessly hunted wherever they could for Ethan. Their search took them from mortal places like Alcatraz to the farthest reaches of the Yggdrasil, the World Tree in Norse mythology. And they had found nothing.

After that first month, Hecate had contacted them. They’d been so hopeful that she’d found Ethan, but no. She was simply calling to tell them that, while the search would continue under Hecate’s command, the quest must be prioritized. So she’d ordered them to keep going on their journey for the ring. Malina and Andrew hadn’t wanted to at first, but the fate of the world was at stake. So, reluctantly, the two of them had renewed their quest with some new information from Hecate: the text in the Lexicon was written in what humans called Linear C, but what the gods called Deus Colloquor. In Latin, that meant “the language of the gods”, and it was an ancient language spoken by the gods long before the first humans appeared. Deus Colloquor had faded into distant memory, and only one god Hecate knew of could translate the Lexicon properly: Thoth, Egyptian god of knowledge.

The only issue was, Thoth had disappeared. According to Hecate, he had gone off the grid millennia ago in order to distance himself from the drama and chaos that came with associating with the gods. But, Hecate theorized, perhaps there was a god who knew where Thoth was: Babi, the Egyptian baboon god. Baboons were one of Thoth’s sacred animals, and thus he and Babi had always been close. If anyone in all the realms knew where Thoth was, it would be Babi.

So Malina and Andrew had set off in search of Babi. But it hadn’t taken long for them to discover that—annoyingly—Babi, too, was missing, having also disappeared quite some time ago. That had put the two right back at square one. It had taken yet another month of searching—but this time for Babi instead of Ethan; Hecate was taking care of that—until they finally got a lead. 

In the city of San Pedro Sula, in Honduras, Malina and Andrew had found Geb, the Egyptian god of the earth. And Geb had told them that, while he wasn’t exactly sure where Babi was, he knew that gods of a similar nature kept tabs on each other, so it was likely that another monkey god would know where Babi was. And Geb just so happened to know where another monkey god was: in London. 

And so that was what had brought Malina and Andrew to London. And that was what had brought them back to Ethan. Andrew had never thought he could be so happy.

When they were finished telling their story (with no more outbursts from Ethan like the first one), he whistled. “Sounds like you guys are being led around on a wild goose chase.”

“Tell me about it,” Malina scoffed. “An entire month wasted just traipsing around the world, looking for Thoth and then looking for Babi and now looking for someone who knows where to find Babi. Completely useless.”

“But you spent another month looking for me,” Ethan pointed out.

“That wasn’t useless.”

They were all quiet for a moment after that. And then Ethan said, “So who are you looking for now?”

Andrew arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“You said Geb had told you a monkey god was in London. He must’ve given you a name. Who was it?”

Andrew shrugged. “Nobody you’d know. He’s from Hindu mythology. Malina used to date him, actually,” he added with a grin. 

“Please do not remind me,” Malina groaned.

“His name’s Hanuman,” Andrew finished. “Very mischievous, and very powerful.”

Ethan blinked, wide-eyed and silent for a few moments. “Hanuman? Is that what you said?”

Malina nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“I—I know where he is,” Ethan said excitedly, standing up from the bed he’d been sitting on. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I know where he is.”

“How?” Andrew asked, incredulous. “We’ve been trying to track his godly scent for two days now. You’ve been in London for less than one, and you know where to find him?”

Ethan grinned. “He’s at Simon Drake’s House of Magic. He’s an act there; I saw a sign for him at the park where I spotted Malina.” He looked between the two of them, his grin growing wider with excitement. “And better yet, he’s on tonight.”

***

Simon Drake’s House of Magic was the most pretentious place Andrew had ever seen. The three of them had managed to piggyback onto a private event—some sort of wedding party—with the help of Andrew’s manipulative mental magic. And just in time, too; the event had started at seven in the evening; they’d almost missed it.

First of all, they had to go blindfolded. Andrew nearly quit the mission then and there. But Malina and Ethan had pressured him into doing it, saying that finding Hanuman was essential. And Andrew couldn’t say no to Ethan.

They’d rode in a vintage limousine—still blindfolded—to wherever the place was. Apparently it was a secret. Their limo-mates were three gaudy women who wouldn’t stop shrieking and giggling the whole ride. Andrew hadn’t cared to learn their names.

The whole way there, Andrew kept his knapsack close. Malina and Ethan had tried to persuade him to leave it behind, but it held things that were far too valuable: the Enigmatic Lexicon, for one, as well as the key Hecate had given them that Zevoa had returned to Ethan. Those were things they could not afford to lose, so Andrew had every intention of keeping them right by his side at all times.

They arrived at the House at seven, and were herded like sheep out of the limos and into “The Enchanted Garden.” The other guests were wowed by the mysterious fog from the not-so-carefully concealed fog machines, and the sound of howling wolves in the distance coming from radios hooked up to the trees. Andrew took one look at it all and was ready to vomit. 

“I hate this,” he whispered to Malina.

“I know,” she said, looking just as disgusted as he felt. They’d had to dress up for the event; conjuring up the clothes in a moment’s notice had been easy. Andrew and Ethan were in matching tuxes with blood-red bowties, and Malina’s dress was the same color. She looked down, irritated, as the leaves and dirt on the ground muddied up the dress’s hem. “I actually really like this dress. This place isn’t sanitary at all.”

“Am I the only one that sees the radios and the fog machines?” Ethan asked.

“No,” Andrew and Malina replied in unison.

They walked on a bit further until they finally reached the house. And they hit the Red Room.

“I’m suddenly wondering if this was a good idea,” Malina said as she looked around the “Gothic” Red Room. “This place is the same color as my dress. I might as well be wearing camo.”

Ethan laughed as he accepted from a waiter a fruity-looking drink inside a balloon cup. “I don’t know. Seems kinda fun.” He caught the looks on their faces and retorted, “Oh, relax, you guys. Have a bit of fun before we have to get back to work. Honestly. Being a god doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy mortal things.”

“Makes it harder, though,” Andrew pointed out. “Because when you’re around real magic every day? Things like this are beyond cheesy.”

“Why couldn’t I have worn blue? I look great in blue,” Malina muttered.

At seven-fifteen, the tours began. The guests were put into groups—to make it easier, they were put into their limo groups, which meant going with the three gaudy women again—and given fifteen-minute tours of the House, one by one. Andrew’s group was first. The two leaders of the tours were the butler Rafe, and a nameless vampire.

Andrew took one look at his vampire teeth and scoffed. “Please. I’ve met real vampires before. That guy looks nothing like them.”

“Would you just shut up and enjoy yourself for once?” Ethan said to him. He gestured towards Malina, who seemed to be starting to get into the swing of the event, laughing when the vampire suddenly thrust a severed head at her with a comic growl. “She’s having fun. Why can’t you?”

Andrew had to concede to that. So he let go of his resignations and allowed himself to be immersed in the festivities. And once he did, he found that it was actually not that bad a time. Rafe and the vampire were pretty funny, bouncing jokes off one another with ease. And once he stopped looking for the flaws, Andrew found that the special effects were surprisingly realistic. All in all, he was starting to have fun.

After a group’s tour was over, they were invited into the Auditorium, where they could individually take a seat in “The Whispering Chair” and have the invisible soothsayer tell them their fortunes. Ethan was the first in line. His fortune was a relatively generic one: his Sun was in the house of Capricorn, so that meant a great event was fast approaching, etc. Malina tried it as well, and she actually got somewhat teary-eyed when the soothsayer informed her that forgiveness for her actions would be coming her way soon. Andrew wasn’t surprised; given her past, it seemed like she needed someone to tell her that.

Finally, it was Andrew’s turn. He sat down in the chair, and the echoing, disembodied voice of the soothsayer rang out: “Greetings, weary traveler. What brings you to my great Whispering Chair?”

“I’ve come to have my fortune told,” Andrew replied. All the guests were instructed to say that. 

“Ah, but of course you have. And now, if you will allow me, I will gaze into your future and pull it back into this present so we may see what is in store for you.” The house lights dimmed, and eerie, colored strobe lights began to pulsate around him. It took a few moments of silence, and then suddenly the soothsayer gasped loudly. One of the gaudy women jumped, startled. “Ah, yes, I see it now.”

“What do you see, O soothsayer?” It was all perfectly scripted, Andrew felt.

“I see your life passing you by with a great deal of hardships to come,” she began. “You will war with yourself, friends, and foes alike. But not for naught, no, not nearly for naught. I see great success in your future—but also great failure, and great pain.” She fell silent for a few moments before saying, with a touch of sympathy: “Please, you mustn’t blame yourself for his death.”

And the strobes stopped, the house lights came back up, and the soothsayer spoke again: “If any more travelers remain, let them sit upon my Whispering Chair and hear their future spoken!”

Andrew shakily got up off the chair, suddenly aware of all the spectating guests staring at him. He walked over to Malina and Ethan, both of them looking as shocked as he felt. “What was that?” Ethan asked.

“I think that was a real fortune,” Andrew replied, still a bit unsettled at what the soothsayer had said. 

Malina nodded. “Sounded like one to me.”

“But—but it can’t be real,” Ethan protested. “This is all just an act, right? Entertainment for regular people.”

Andrew shook his head. “Maybe, but maybe not. It’s not uncommon for gods to take mortal professions in this day and age, like Hanuman has. Assimilation, you know? It’s likely, actually, that this soothsayer is someone with the gift of precognition.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe Circe. I haven’t heard from her in a while.”

“It would make sense that these are true predictions, too,” Malina pointed out. “Ethan, yours was about how greatness and powerful events would soon come to you. That’s certainly true for you above anyone else.”

“But then what about yours?” Ethan asked. “Yours was something about forgiveness.”

Andrew caught it: the flash of indecision and the deer-in-the-headlights look on Malina’s face. But she composed herself quickly and shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know. Maybe I made someone mad. I do that a lot.”

Ethan snorted. “Kinda like Hecate?”

“Exactly like Hecate.” Andrew caught Malina’s eye as Ethan turned away. Her message was clear: _Say nothing. I’ll tell him on my own terms. For now it’s best if he doesn’t know._ Andrew couldn’t have agreed more.

The three of them eventually migrated back into the Red Room, where they finally learned who they were even there for: Lucas and Zia, the happy couple whose wedding had been at noon and now they were celebrating by going to Simon Drake’s House of Magic. Not Andrew’s top venue choice, but hey, to each their own. 

Lucas asked a lot of questions. At one point, it looked like he was about to break through the mental hold Andrew had placed on everyone there, and realize that he, Ethan, and Malina didn’t belong there. Fortunately, Andrew caught that, and tightened the hold. And Lucas went back to his blissfully ignorant self, believing that Ethan, Malina, and Andrew were distant cousins of his from America.

An hour later, at eight-fifteen, dinner finally began. Ethan, Malina, and Andrew were seated with the gaudy women and two quiet men who Andrew strongly suspected were gay, by the looks they were giving each other from across the table. Various parlor-trick magicians came around from table to table during the meal, performing little tricks to keep the guests entertained until the real show began. Andrew wasn’t particularly impressed by these magicians, but he respected the talent they had. The woman who did the card tricks was especially good. And the veal was excellent, he noted.

Finally, at ten, the show started. The host, Simon Drake himself, came out onto the stage in the Auditorium to welcome the cheering crowd. Andrew had gotten them seats up in the front row, right next to Lucas and Zia. They’d kicked out Lucas’s brothers and sisters to get those seats, but Andrew was sure they wouldn’t mind. He’d made sure of that.

“Welcome, one and all, members of Lucas and Zia’s lovely wedding party!” Simon Drake cried, getting the crowd pumped up. “My name is Simon Drake, the proprietor of this humble estate. Under normal circumstances, I would be performing for you tonight. But alas, these are not normal circumstances.” The audience groaned, disappointed. “Ah, but I promise you, my dear guests, the man replacing me tonight surpasses even my skill. You will not be disappointed with him!” The audience cheered, revved up again. “And now, without further ado, let me welcome to the stage: the one, the only, the Great Hanuman!”

Simon Drake darted off the stage as Hanuman took his place. The Hindu monkey god was dressed in a velvet red magician’s suit, complete the white gloves and black top hat. But otherwise, he looked exactly as he had ten thousand years ago, when he and Andrew had last met: dark skin, tall, lanky frame, unnaturally hairy, and a mischievous gleam in his gray eyes that instantly told you not to fully trust him. 

Hanuman’s set was the one thing that really blew Andrew away about the place. It was absolutely astounding; first, he called for twenty men from the wedding party to take the stage. He herded them onto a stray piece of sheet metal. And he then proceeded to lift that piece of metal, with all twenty men on it, high into the air. The audience went wild. Of course, Andrew knew that Hanuman possessed super-strength, but from a mortal’s perspective—which Andrew had chosen to adopt to really enjoy the show—it was incredible. 

Hanuman did many other amazing things that night. He transformed from man, to monkey, and back again. He called up Lucas and Zia and changed the audience’s perception of reality so that the happy couple looked more like two grotesque slime monsters. He hypnotized the gaudy women into becoming WWE champions, each one of them, and setting them on each other for a few moments before breaking the spell, and then healed their wounds and fixed their dresses, hair, and makeup. It was a truly incredible set, and Andrew was glad he hadn’t missed it.

Finally, after an hour of Hanuman’s magic, he left the stage. The audience was sorry to see him go. But, as Simon Drake informed them, dancing would now commence until “God only knows when!” Some sort of electronic dance song came on, and the guests slowly got up and started to migrate onto the dance floor. But Ethan, Malina, and Andrew had a different destination.

They approached the guy guarding the backstage, and it only took minimal mental manipulation from Andrew to get the guy to let them through. The backstage door led into a great big hallway, with enough doors to fill a house. “How the hell are we supposed to know which one is his?” Ethan asked, looking around.

“Look for the one with a star on it,” Malina muttered. “Hanuman’s a conceited son of a bitch. He’ll have insisted there be a star on his door.”

Within moments, Andrew found the door with a star on it. He wasted no time in knocking. A second later, a voice called from inside, “Come in!”

Andrew opened the door and walked inside, followed by Malina and Ethan. There, he saw Hanuman, sitting in a chair in front a big rectangular mirror mounted on the wall. Behind the chair was a big green sofa, with a nice-looking coffee table in front of it. He was undoing his bowtie. “Tonight was amazing, wasn’t it, Simon?” he asked in a clearly faked British accent. “The crowd went absolutely nuts. Especially when I—”

He turned, saw them, and jumped, startled. His eyes widened even further when he saw Malina. “Oh. Um, hello, Malina. What—what are you doing here?”

Malina rolled her eyes. “Can you drop that accent, Hanuman? It’s ridiculous. You’re not even British. You’re butchering it.”

Hanuman sighed, and when he spoke again, he spoke with an Indian accent—his native one. “Judgmental as ever, I see. You know, assimilation only works if you fully immerse yourself. I won’t be nearly as respected if I don’t use a British accent.” He stood up from is chair. “Is that the only reason why you came to see the show? To mock my accent?”

“Actually, no,” Malina said, sitting down on the sofa and putting her feet up on the coffee table. “We’re here because we need to find someone, and we think you might know where he is.”

Hanuman scoffed. “I’ve not had contact with many gods as of late. I doubt—”

“Babi,” Andrew interrupted. “Egyptian baboon god. Where is he?”

That got the monkey god’s attention. He leaned against the wall, looking confused. “Babi? Why would you want him? He’s not been involved with anything, not since he went away.”

“It’s not that he’s involved with anything,” Malina said. “It’s that, we believe he knows where to find Thoth. He’s the one who’s involved. Or rather, needs to be.”

“Find me to find Babi to find Thoth?” Hanuman asked, arching an eyebrow. “Sounds like a—”

“Wild goose chase,” Ethan finished. “Yeah, we know, we’ve been over that. But we really need to find this guy, so could you just help us out here?”

Hanuman looked over at Ethan, furrowing his brow. “Malina and Anshar I know. Malina, especially.” Malina mimed gagging. “But you I do not. Who are you?”

“This,” Andrew cut in before Ethan could answer, “is Ethan Locke. But you may know him by a different name: He Who Is One With All.”

Hanuman’s eyes widened. “The prophecy? Hecate found him?”

“The one and only,” Ethan said.

“Shit,” Hanuman breathed. “Then it’s time. The end of days is fast approaching.”

“Wait, what?” Ethan asked, looking around at Malina and Andrew. “End of days? What does he mean, end of days?”

Malina sighed. “I’m not sure of the specific wording of it, but the prophecy that included you also foretold that your arrival and subsequent magical training would herald the end of the world as we know it.” She glared at Hanuman. “And if we could please refrain from talking about that anymore?”

“Sorry,” Hanuman muttered. “I assumed he would know.”

“Nobody told me about the end of the world,” Ethan said, his breathing suddenly getting quicker. 

“Did you really think battling the source of all evil would lead to anything less?” Andrew reasoned.

“Well, yeah, but—” Ethan looked around again, seeming terrified. “The end of the world?”

“Can you calm him down?” Andrew asked Malina. She nodded and walked over to Ethan, leading him to the sofa and sitting him down. She started rubbing his shoulders and whispering soothing words to him, trying to keep him calm and prevent a full-on panic attack. Meanwhile, Andrew turned to Hanuman and said, “So now you know the stakes. Can you tell us where Babi is or not?”

Hanuman scoffed. “Of course I can tell you. Gods of a similar nature always keep tabs on each other, remember?” He pulled his bowtie all the way off. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you. Babi has always valued his privacy. And I’ve never been one to betray trust.”

Malina snorted from where she sat next to Ethan, whose head was in between his knees. “And what about my trust, Hanuman? You didn’t seem so worried about that when I caught you with that Celtic bitch.”

Hanuman groaned. “I’ve told you time and time again, Malina, she flung herself onto me!”

“But you didn’t fight back!”

“Oh, I was going to break it off with you anyway, Malina,” Hanuman said with a wave of his hand. “Flidais just made it easier. You and I—it wasn’t working for me anymore. I’ve told you, I prefer…less humanoid goddesses.”

“So what, her antlers turned you on?” Malina scoffed.

“They are quite sensual.”

“Oh, my gods.”

“Can we maybe get back to the task at hand?” Andrew asked, cutting off their strange conversation. He knew there’d been bad blood between Malina and Hanuman ever since they’d broken it off after Malina caught him with another goddess. But there was even worse blood between Malina and that goddess; bad blood going back centuries before this had even happened. For reasons unknown to him, Malina had always hated the horned Celtic goddess Flidais. And now Andrew could use that to his advantage. “Hanuman, how about I make you a deal?”

Hanuman raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, a deal?”

“If you tell us where Babi is, then I won’t tell Flidais you used to date Malina,” Andrew said with a mischievous grin. “It is my understanding that she doesn’t actually know that, right?”

“You didn’t even have the decency to tell her?” Malina cried.

Hanuman held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, just stop yelling at me!” He adjusted his shirt and glared at Andrew. “Fine. I’ll tell you where Babi is. But you better swear to me that Flidais never finds out from either of you—” he glared at Malina too “—about my and Malina’s…history.”

Malina scoffed. “Coward.”

“Deal,” Andrew said. “Now, where is he?”

Hanuman sighed and sat back down in his chair. “I can’t be entirely sure of his exact location, because he’s been gone for quite a while. But last I heard of him, Babi was headed for Alfheim. Something about a spiritual getaway,” he added with a wave of his hand. 

Andrew nodded his thanks at the monkey god. “Appreciate it,” he said, turning back to Malina and Ethan. “You heard him. To Alfheim we go.”

“Alfheim?” Ethan asked, lifting his head from between his knees. He seemed to have calmed down some. “What’s that?”

“It’s a really awesome place,” Malina said, grinning and helping Ethan to his feet. “Home of the Light Elves in Norse mythology. Beautiful and picturesque. Thank the gods we’re going somewhere nice first.”

“Alright, yes, it’s all well and good, but can you please leave now?” Hanuman spoke up. “Simon will be back here any moment to talk about the show, and you need to be long gone before he is.”

“Got it,” Andrew said, nodding to Malina. She nodded back and, with a wave of her hand, created a portal in the wall. She was about to pull Ethan through it when Andrew suddenly said, “Wait.” He turned back to Hanuman. “Who’s the soothsayer?”

Hanuman blinked. “What?”

“The invisible soothsayer, here in the House. Her predictions didn’t sound fake. Who is she? Circe or someone?”

“Oh,” Hanuman said. “No, not Circe. The Volva. She’s been working here for much longer than I.”

Andrew nodded his thanks at the monkey god again before turning towards the portal, watching as Malina and Ethan jumped through it. And, as Andrew did as well, he couldn’t help but feel unsettled. The soothsayer had been the Volva, the Norse witch who had possessed the gift of powerful precognition. She had been the one to foretell Ragnarok. 

Andrew would have preferred the soothsayer was Circe. Circe’s predictions were often wrong. The Volva, however, was always right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the gang's back together! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, you guys. Andrew's relentless cynicism towards the fake human magic, the gaudy women, Hanuman and Malina reuniting...god, this was just a really fun chapter to write. It was a break from all the danger and evil, and the squad was just out having fun. But I promise you...that isn't gonna last very long at all. 
> 
> Pronunciations for this chapter:  
> Hanuman = HAH-noo-mahn  
> Babi = BAH-bee  
> Volva = VOHL-vuh  
> Circe = SEAR-see  
> Thoth = TOTH (the "o" is pronounced like the "o" in toss)
> 
> The song, if you didn't know already, is "Back In Black" by ACDC. Catch you guys next chapter!


	15. Eastbound And Down

The end of the world. How come nobody had told Ethan about the end of the world? That seemed like something you would tell somebody, especially if they were apparently the catalyst for it. 

But no. Ethan had been kept in the dark, yet again. Yes, he was infinitely grateful to be back with Malina and Andrew again. They were his friends and he knew they would keep him safe until he was powerful enough to defend himself against the likes of Sehaqeq or the Furies. But he didn’t like being lied to like this. If he was the reason the world was going to end, then he sort of felt he should know about it. And yet, no one had deemed it important enough to tell him. Were gods always so cryptic like that? Why? It made no sense to Ethan. 

And because of the fact that nobody ever told him anything, Ethan hadn’t known that the world was ending, and as a result had suffered a small nervous breakdown in front of Hanuman. That had been easily the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to Ethan. Having a minor panic attack in front of a god, especially one whom Ethan had only just met? That was the most mortal thing he could have possibly done. Call him shallow, but Ethan kind of wanted other gods to like him. If he was important as Hecate said he was, then it was probably a good idea for other gods to like him.

And, to make matters worse, his breakdown had caused some flashbacks to his time in the Underworld. Ethan had hoped he was over that, but now he knew he wasn’t. Ethan was scared that he might have PTSD thanks to the whole ordeal. It seemed natural that he would, of course; he was essentially tortured for two months, being slowly starved out by Hades. Ethan just thought it would be a really big inconvenience if it turned out he had PTSD. He had no doubt he would be facing countless other horrors on this journey to the end of the world. He didn’t need to be developing PTSD this early in the game. That could come later.

But his possible PTSD was the furthest thing from Ethan’s mind at the moment. Currently, the only thing really on his mind was how the hell he was going to survive falling from five hundred feet in the air.

Malina had miscalculated the portal, and it had come out five hundred feet above the ground instead of on the ground. And, Ethan thought, if he was going to die a painful death from splatting on the ground, then at least it was a pretty view.

Ethan was falling towards some sort of enormous, circular room that was pure, blinding white. It was so clean that Ethan could see the spaces in between the marble tiles, even from that high up. The room was completely empty except for three doors and a statue. One door led north, another led south, and the third led east. The statue, which seemed to be of an armored man with a double-bladed spear standing back-to-back with a winged woman wielding a short sword, stood along the west wall. Ethan turned briefly to see that the ceiling was domed and covered in ornate, church-like stained glass paintings. Ethan decided he would look at the ceiling only. It would be a nice last thing to see before dying and staining the white tiled floor with blood.

And then, as he heard Andrew suddenly grunt, Ethan looked over to see that the god had created a cushion of air to catch himself with. Malina had done something similar with the rays of light coming from the ceiling. And Ethan suddenly realized that he was being incredibly morbid about an easily survivable situation. Just another aftereffect of his time in the Underworld, he supposed. Death came to him more easily now.

Ethan waved his hands and created a cushion of air beneath him, just like Andrew had. He then willed the air to quickly but safely bring him down to the ground. He landed on his back, still staring up at the ceiling, which was now too far away to clearly see but still beautiful none the less.

Malina and Andrew landed next to him, both on their feet. Ethan got to his. “Where are we?” Ethan asked. “Is this Alfheim?”

Malina shook her head. “No. It’s Asgard, the Norse heaven.”

“You can’t portal directly into the Norse worlds,” Andrew explained. “It’s forbidden. So all travelers must first stop through Asgard.” Andrew pointed at the door leading to the east. “That door opens up into a new room with seven other doors. Each one of those leads into another one of the worlds.” He glared at Malina. “I was hoping Malina would portal into that room, or, at the very least, into this one, on the ground.”

Malina shrugged. “Alright, so I screwed up the portal. It happens sometimes.”

“We could’ve died!”

“But we didn’t.”

The sound of their arguing faded into background noise as Ethan stopped listening. He looked over at the statue. As if in a trace, Ethan began walking towards it, transfixed by its intricacies and beauty. It looked as if it had been carved out of obsidian, a stark black contrast to the blinding white of the room they were in. 

He took a closer look at the two people. The man was taller and much bulkier than the woman, his stocky frame taking up a little more than half of the statue. A long, sweeping cloak flew out behind him, frozen in midair. In his hands he wielded a double-edged spear, with one end digging into the ground (the actual ground, not the statue’s base). The chain mail on the man’s chest was so intricately carved that Ethan could see every link clear as day. As were the feathers on the man’s pants, which seemed to be made of some sort of bird skin. And the most striking part about the man’s appearance was the fact that he only had one eye. Perched atop the man’s head were two ravens, wings outspread and beaks open in a silent battle cry.

The woman next to him seemed to a bit more well-dressed for the battle they appeared to be facing. She wore armor on all parts of her body except for her head, from which long, cascading hair fell gracefully around her shoulders. In one hand she held a short sword, and her other hand was clenched into a fist, and raised as if she were mid-punch. A wild-eyed yet determined look was etched onto her face. Beautiful, enormous wings unfolded from her back, reaching up even beyond the ravens. Around her neck she wore a beautifully ornate necklace that held the only color besides black in the entire statue. The necklace shone a bright orange-red, symbolizing what Ethan guessed was—

“Fire,” said a female voice behind him. Ethan turned, expecting to see Malina standing there, but instead—to his surprise—seeing the woman from the statue. She looked different, of course; her face looked older and kinder, and she wore a long green dress rather than battle armor, but it was her wings that gave her away. They swept out from behind her, gleaming white. The woman smiled at him. “My necklace, Brisingamen, was infused with the power of fire.” She snapped her fingers, and a small flame appeared above her thumb. “I guess you could say it is my native element, which is ironic, considering I was born of the brother of a frost giant,” she added with a laugh. 

All Ethan could say was, “Um.”

Thankfully, Andrew saved him. He quickly crossed to Ethan’s side, and bowed low. “Lady Freyja,” he said, tugging on Ethan’s arm to indicate that Ethan should bow, too. “What an honor.” Ethan bowed, too, but only after he saw Malina cross to his other side and do it. Andrew could be a bit too formal at times. But if Malina bowed to someone, then it must have been someone very important.

Freyja curtsied back at them. “Greetings to all of you, Anshar, Malina, and Ethan Locke.” She looked at Ethan with a small smile. “Anshar, your mortal friend here was just admiring the statue of myself and my cousin, Odin. That alone was enough to alert me to someone’s presence here in the Room of Doors. It is no honor that I am here; just a simple accidental summoning,” she finished with a soft giggle.

“That’s Odin?” Ethan asked incredulously, turning to look at the man again. Now that he thought about it, he did remember some sort of myth about how Odin lost his eye. “He’s your cousin? I thought you guys were married.”

Freyja chuckled. “No, Ethan Locke, that is unfortunately false. Though I have always admired Odin for his bravery and prowess, his true wife is Frigga, goddess of fertility. I am instead married to Od, another but lesser-known war god.”

“Freyja is very close to Odin, though,” Malina told Ethan. “She’s the queen of the Valkyries, Odin’s mightiest female warriors.”

Freyja nodded towards her. “Indeed so, sun goddess. That is why we commissioned this statue from Bragi, our resident artist. Although there are not as many battles to be fought anymore, Odin and his Valkyries must never be forgotten. This way, we can ensure that we are immortalized.”

“Who are the ravens?” Ethan asked.

“Odin’s prized raven servants, Huginn and Muninn,” Freyja replied. “Their names translate to Thought and Memory, respectively. They are constantly keeping watch over the world and delivering information to Odin when he needs it. They were always most useful in battle; they were excellent at discerning the enemy’s movements.”

“Wow. So they—?”

Ethan never got to finish his question because Andrew interrupted. “Lady Freyja, as much as we would love to stay and chat with you, we have somewhere we desperately need to be. Would you be so kind as to grant us access to the Room of Realms?”

Freyja nodded and curtsied again. “It would be my honor. But which realm, may I ask?”

“Alfheim.”

Freyja smiled, and her eyes sparkled with joy and a sudden wistfulness. “Ah, the home of the Light Elves! My precious nephews. I have not seen them in so long. Do be a dear and say hello to my nephew Dain for me when you see him, yes?”

Andrew bowed. “Of course, my lady.”

Freyja nodded again. “But before you leave, there is something I must do. After all, as short as this meeting is, something productive must come from everything, no?” And then she suddenly began to take off her necklace as she turned to Ethan. “Now, I feel I must warn you three: as of late, the dark world of Muspelheim, home of the fire giants and demons, has been leaking into the other worlds due to Tiamat’s rising. Alfheim has been particularly affected, as the two worlds are right next to each other.” Her necklace came all the way off, and she held it in her hands a moment. “The magic of water is the best protection, but the sheer heat emanating from Muspelheim may render it useless. So, the magic of fire would be the second best defense; I believe the mortal saying is, fighting fire with fire.” 

And then, to Ethan’s surprise, Freyja reached forward and hooked Brisingamen around his neck. “I can sense that you have unlocked your ability to wield fire, but cannot yet control it. This should help, I think.” 

Ethan was confused for a moment, but then suddenly he was filled with the strangest warmth he’d ever felt. Brisingamen began to glow yellow, and, Ethan was later told, so did his eyes. At first, it was a pleasant experience; Ethan felt warm and safe, the pleasurable tingles of the energy from the necklace coursing through his body.

But then the warmth suddenly began to intensify. Ethan winced as it heated up, and struggled to keep from crying out as it became searing hot, nearly unbearable pain. He closed his eyes. Brisingamen began to feel hot against his neck, and Ethan could feel the energy hitting him even harder. He clenched his fists and his teeth, briefly opening his eyes to see Freyja staring at him with a hard, steely look in her eyes. He wanted to cry out, wanted even to hit Freyja on the head or something for doing this to him, but Ethan couldn’t move. His blood was running too hot now, and the pain was overwhelming. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Ethan fell to the ground, screaming.

And it only got worse. The pain intensified and the energy got hotter and hotter until Ethan felt like he was about to burn up from the inside out. His eyes opened again, and he saw Malina and Andrew standing over him, looking concerned but held back by Freyja. And still, she was staring him down with that look. Their meeting had started out so peacefully, and now it was ending in pain and suffering for Ethan. He felt like he had back at the Fields of Punishment. Weak, defenseless, and so heated it was like he was on fire. And then he couldn’t breathe; whatever fire that was burning within him was stealing away his oxygen, too. Ethan suddenly felt as he had back in his moldy Underworld cell: helpless and dying. One or two tears escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. 

Just before Ethan passed out, the pain finally felt like it was starting to let up. Ethan stayed still on the ground for a few moments, in a sort of fetal position, listening to the pain and trying to see if he was okay. It began to subside faster and faster until, eventually, it faded away completely.

Freyja knelt down, unhooked Brisingamen from Ethan’s neck, and put it back around her own. As she did this, she said: “And now, Ethan Locke, the magic of fire is within you. Fire is the life-bringer—giver of warmth, cooker of meat—but it can also be the death-bringer, tearing down buildings and trees alike, and even consuming the air itself, with its insatiable hunger. Never forget the two-faced nature of fire if you are to wield it, Ethan Locke, lest you yourself burn in its wake.”

Ethan had no response to that; he just lay there on the ground, gasping for the air the fire within him had stolen away. When he looked back up, Freyja had vanished, leaving Malina and Andrew standing there. While Malina looked horrified and was trying to help Ethan up, Andrew looked more reserved about the whole thing, as if it had been necessary.

“What the hell was that?” were the first words out of Ethan’s mouth when he trusted himself to speak again.

“Freyja gifted you with the magic of fire, kind of like how Hecate did when she gave you the magic of earth,” Malina explained. “When I first saw her, I was sort of hoping she would. But—but I had no idea it would be so painful for you. I’m sorry, Ethan.”

“She had to do it,” Andrew spoke up. “She was right; you’ll need control over fire if we’re going to have to deal with the dark creatures of Muspelheim.”

“Yeah, but she could’ve been a bit gentler about it,” Malina snapped. “Hecate gave Ethan the magic of earth without a hitch, and you know painful learning that magic can be. Freyja was unnecessarily cruel, that absolute—”

“Malina,” Andrew said firmly, stopping her. “Watch it. We’re still in Asgard. She’s likely listening to us.”

“Fine,” she grumbled. “But I still think she could have gone about that a lot better.”

“This is Asgard?” Ethan asked.

Malina looked at him strangely. “Yes. We told you that.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, shit, did your memory or something get affected by that? Oh, I swear to Helios, I am gonna ruin that—”

“Malina!”

“No, no, it didn’t hurt my memory,” Ethan assured her. He broke away from her, wanting to stand on his own. He hated this feeling of helplessness that hadn’t quite left him ever since he’d escaped from the Underworld. He needed to get over it. “It’s just—is this it? This is all there is to Asgard?”

“Oh. No,” Malina said. She pointed to the door leading north. “Most of Asgard is just past there. This is just the Room of Doors; kind of like the entrance hall.” She pointed at the door leading south. “That door opens to the Bifrost Bridge, which connects Asgard to Earth. Whenever you see a rainbow in the sky, that’s the Bridge touching down so a Norse god can get down to Earth.” Then she pointed to the door leading east. “And that door opens to another room with seven doors, each one leading to a different realm of the Yggdrasil. That’s where we’re headed.”

“Exactly,” Andrew agreed, starting to walk towards the door. “Now come on. We need to get to Alfheim and find Babi.”

Ethan nodded, and followed him, with Malina right behind. The door—just like the other two—was big, wooden, and looked extremely heavy. But Andrew pulled it open with ease, and held it open while Ethan and Malina walked in. It slammed shut with a heavy boom when Andrew let go and slipped in.

There was a stone stairway beyond the door, leading down into the main part of the enormous room. This main part was in the shape of a semicircle, with seven doors similar to the one they’d just passed through lining the wall. There was a symbol above each door. Above the first one, there was a hammer; above the second, a wispy sort of shape that kind of looked like a ghost to Ethan; above the third, a fist; above the fourth, a sun; above the fifth, a flame; above the sixth, a crudely carved shape that reminded Ethan of a palm tree; and above the seventh, two narrowed eyes. 

“What do those shapes mean?” Ethan asked as the three of them reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“They mark which door leads where,” Andrew replied. He then proceeded to point from door to door and explain which was which, starting with the hammer. “Nidavellir, home of the dwarves. Niflheim, realm of the dead. Jotunheim, home of the frost giants. Alfheim, home of the Light Elves and our destination. Muspelheim, realm of darkness and fire giants. Vanaheim, home of the Vanir. And Svartalfheim, home to the Dark Elves, who are sort of the Light Elves’ counterparts.” 

Ethan whistled appreciatively. “That’s a lot of realms.”

“And count in Asgard and Earth, and you’ve got nine total,” Malina said, stepping towards the door that supposedly led to Alfheim. “The Norse weren’t exactly big on subtlety. The bigger, the better.”

“So what, we just step through this door and boom, we’re in Alfheim?” Ethan asked, arching an eyebrow. “That’s how it works?”

Andrew nodded. “That’s how it works.”

One thing Ethan had noticed about this new world of his was that everything was complicatedly simple; like, a whole horde of complicated things were put together to end up in a simple thing. For example: Hecate and Freyja granting him with earth and fire magic. They had been drastically different processes, but at the end, it was a simple thing: imbuing Ethan with the knowledge of how to wield those two magics. And also, the door-wall from Ethan’s cell in the Underworld. All those complicated security measures—being escorted by Charon, the hellhounds out in the hall, the complete and total darkness—had been set up to prevent the prisoners from realizing that escape was simple: just walk through the wall. Because anybody could. Complicatedly simple.

And now, here was this grand Room of Doors in Asgard, with a grand staircase beyond the east door, leading down into a grand half-room filled with even more doors, each with grand symbols carved above them, and the “doors” ended up being little more, really, than decorated portals. Complicatedly simple.

Ethan wondered if everything in the world of gods and magic was like that. He really hoped it wasn’t; a person could get tired of grandeur after too much of it.

"Wait," Ethan said, and the three of them stopped. 

"What?" Malina asked. 

Ethan gestured at their clothes. They were still wearing their wedding party clothes; he had almost forgotten. Judging by the looks on Andrew's and Malina's faces, they had, too. "Shouldn't we change before we go? These don't really seem like the most appropriate clothes."

Andrew nodded. "You're right." He snapped his fingers, and the three of them were in different clothes in an instant. Andrew was in a black T-shirt with jeans and hiking boots, Malina was in a snug button-down neatly tucked into cargo shorts, coupled with a pair of sneakers, and Ethan was in a plain baby-blue long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and wearing matching board shorts and sneakers.

"Dude, are you serious?" Ethan asked. "I look like a pastel nightmare."

Andrew rolled his eyes, and said nothing, walking over to the Alfheim door and opening it up, revealing a door-shaped area of pure yellow energy behind it. Malina turned towards Ethan. “You ready? ’Cause you’re going in first.”

“What?” Ethan asked, suddenly forgetting about his new clothes. “Why do I have to go first?”

“Because you’re the Chosen One,” Malina said, dragging him forward. “Chosen One always goes first. It’s, like, the rules.”

“Show me where it says that.”

“There’s no official rulebook for being the Chosen One, Ethan.”

“Exactly! So you admit that it doesn’t—” Ethan never got to finish what he was saying because Malina just rolled her eyes and pushed him through the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so uh....that happened. If we're being honest, I was at a complete blank for this chapter, and I figured I could throw in a new god to fill it up. Freyja seemed like a logical choice, idk. I don't have much to say about this chapter, it was entirely filler. 
> 
> New pronunciation:  
> Freyja = FRAY-uh (yeah the "j" is silent idk why)
> 
> The song is "Eastbound and Down" by Jerry Reed. That's from me for now, catch you guys later!


	16. The Hunter

Ethan rolled out of the portal, and then, to his initial alarm, kept rolling. It took a few moments for him to gather his senses enough to realize that the portal had come out on the crest of a hill. A hill which he was now tumbling down. 

The hill was insanely steep. Ethan rolled on for a few moments before managing to stop himself by grabbing onto a low-hanging tree branch. Once his hands were around it tightly, he pulled himself up to his feet. The cuts and bruises he’d just gotten stung, and Ethan had to keep from wincing himself to death. Squinting in the sudden sunlight, Ethan looked back up to the top of the hill. He saw Malina and Andrew standing there, waving frantically at him, and shouting down at him. At first Ethan was confused, because he couldn’t hear them. But then he looked off to his right, and he saw it. The thing in the bushes, staring at him with red eyes. He could hear it snarling, and even caught a glimpse of a huge droplet of saliva drip onto the ground. 

Ethan caught his breath. Only a minute into his time on Alfheim, and he was already in a life-or-death situation. Maybe this had something to do with those “rules of being the Chosen One” that Malina had made up; rule number one was that the Chosen One always went first through unknown portals. Rule number two was that the Chosen One was never allowed to be safe. What was rule number three? Mandatory eventual disembowelment?

Ethan risked looking away from the creature and looked up at Malina and Andrew. From what he could see, they were trying to make their way down the hill, but it was too steep. Even if Andrew could manipulate the air right, there was no footing to be had, so if he lost control, then they would all fall. The only reason Ethan was on his feet was because he was hanging onto the branch for dear life. And, as Ethan watched the creature’s eyes dart from him, to the branch, and back to him, he realized that the creature knew that, too.

It all happened in a split second. The animal lunged, but it wasn’t aiming for Ethan. Instead, it went for the branch. Ethan tried to knock it back with a blast of concussive air, but without the use of his hands, he couldn’t manipulate the air to make it powerful enough. As the beast flew through the air, Ethan noticed that it looked like a wolf. A giant wolf on steroids, maybe, but a wolf nonetheless.

The wolf’s enormous, sharp teeth connected with the branch, and the wood snapped with a sickening crack. Ethan lost his footing and began to fall. Malina’s shrill cry of anguish cut through the still air. The wolf changed directions at lightning speed, mouth open and ready to devour Ethan’s head.

But, in the few milliseconds it took him to start falling, Ethan realized something. In the past two months, he’d survived training with Varuna, battling Sehaqeq twice, being imprisoned in the Underworld, and Freyja’s brutal gift of fire. He’d survived. He would not go down now. Not when he had already gone through so much, and not when there was still so much more at stake.

So Ethan commanded the earth to rise up beneath him, creating a flat cushion of dirt for him to land on. The wolf landed on top of him, snarling and snapping at him. It went in for the kill, and then Ethan punched it in the snout. But the thing was, Ethan’s fist was on fire.

The wolf yipped in pain and fell off the side of the small dirt plateau. It skidded down the steep hill for a few moments, and then it regained its footing on the ground, digging its claws into the earth to get its balance. Not so easily deterred by a burning punch—literally—the wolf lunged again.

Ethan willed himself up into the air and suddenly found himself flying high above the wolf. The beast howled and roared at him, furious at its prey having escaped. Ethan allowed himself to laugh, giddy over the thrill of such a narrow escape. He prepared himself to fly back to the top of the hill, where he could rejoin Andrew and Malina.

But the gigantic hawk that ripped him out of the air had other ideas.

Ethan plummeted, limbs flailing and panic coursing through his mind. Just as he managed to regain his composure and begin re-manipulating the air, the hawk swooped back in, grabbing Ethan in its talons. He screamed, duly terrified now, and shot a burst of fire up at the hawk. It snapped through the flames with its beak like they were nothing and continued flying. Ethan shot up everything he could at it—air, water, even some earth—but nothing would faze the hawk. 

Ethan shot a glance back at Malina and Andrew, who were screaming after him from the top of the hill. He still couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he imagined it was something like: “Ethan! Ethan, oh gods, no! Ethan!”

And then suddenly Andrew was pointing at something that was coming up from the ground. He was shouting, louder now, probably trying to get Ethan’s attention. He looked down, following the god’s gaze, expecting to see some other sort of creature coming up to battle the hawk for him. 

But instead he saw an arrow.

The arrow whizzed past Ethan’s head, and connected with the hawk’s wing. The hawk shrieked in pain, a nearly-deafening sound that left Ethan with a nasty headache. With an injured wing, the hawk couldn’t stay in the air as easily, and it began to fall to one side as its one good wing struggled to keep its enormous body in the air. As it did so, its grip on Ethan loosened, and he slipped through the cracks in between its talons. For the second time in as many minutes, Ethan found himself falling through the air.

But this time, nothing came out of nowhere to grab him. He just kept falling, hurtling straight for the trees. As he fell, Ethan couldn’t help but notice that the view from that high up was indescribably beautiful. The sun was just rising over the crests of snow-capped mountains off in the distance, illuminating the forested landscape in a kind of serenity that had never existed in Ethan’s life. A sparkling blue lake could even be seen in an enormous clearing, vaguely reflecting the fading purples and oranges of the early morning sky. As he shot down towards the very sharp and very pointy branches of the large tree beneath him, Ethan couldn’t help but take a moment to take it all in. 

But, he eventually decided, enough was enough. Ethan called upon the air to cushion his fall, and it did. He slowed over time, finally coming to a stop in between two of the tree’s higher branches. He took a few moments to catch his breath, looking around for the source of the arrow.

He spotted the man hidden in the branches quickly. The man was dressed in a brown-and-dark-green hooded cloak wrapped around his body, with a quiver full of arrows slung on his back. Two hatchets hung from loops around his belt, one on either side. His metal shoes with little points coming out from them in various places—presumably for footing in tough places, Ethan guessed—dug into the wooden branch, keeping him balanced as he drew another arrow, nocked it, and shot it upwards at the hawk. It must have hit true, because Ethan heard the hawk cry out in pain again. 

“Gotcha now, Hábrók,” the man muttered. He quickly nocked another arrow, and shot it upwards at the hawk. But, judging by his sudden grunt of frustration, Ethan guessed he must have missed. Ethan looked up through the tree’s leaves, and saw the hawk lopsidedly swoop off to the left, disappearing behind the tree-line.

“Blast!” the man suddenly shouted, startling Ethan. He must have seen Ethan jump, because he glanced over and chuckled. “Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“No problem,” Ethan said, adopting an air of caution around this stranger. “I mean, you basically saved me, so I can’t really complain, can I?”

The man laughed; it was a deep, hearty sound that shook the man’s bulky frame. “True, kid. Very true.” He stepped forward, holding out his gloved hand to Ethan. “Now, hey, what do you say we get outta this damned tree, huh?”

With a tentative level of trust that Ethan had been forced to take on far too many times lately, Ethan took the man’s hand and the man helped him to his feet. “Now we just climb down. I trust you know how to climb, don’tcha?”

Ethan nodded, and the man grinned at him and started jumping down through the branches. Ethan watched him go for a few seconds, and then created a cushion of air to carry him down through the branches. He’d lied; he was an awful climber.

Within a few moments, they were both on the ground. This was apparently a much more level part of the hill, because it was much easier for Ethan to get some stable footing. He glanced around, watching for anything else that might jump out at them. The man noticed, and laughed. “Don’t go worrying, kid. With me here, you’re safe. Although I’m pretty sure you’d be safe on your own.” He grinned at Ethan. “I saw you face down that warg all on your own. Brave, and effective, too. As strong and vicious as they are, they still hate fire. Just like every other living thing, I’d wager.” 

Ethan nodded, deciding not to mention certain animals like the Pompeii Worm or maybe even a dragon. He figured they were real. “Thanks. But why were you watching me?”

The man shrugged. “I was tracking Hábrók, and I saw you falling. Figured I’d try to help you at first, but then I saw that you had it covered. So I stayed out of it.”

“Mind telling me who you are?” Ethan asked. “I usually like to know who the people are that are spying on me.”

The man chuckled, and lowered his hood, giving Ethan a full look at his surprisingly incredibly handsome, young-looking face. He was light-skinned, and his neatly-styled brown hair was combed down onto his scalp. His deep green eyes were light with laughter, and the sides of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. And, Ethan noticed, the guy’s jawline (which sported a thick beard) could probably cut glass. “Sorry. My bad. Never been great with manners.” He held out a hand to Ethan. “The name’s Ullr, Norse god of glory and the hunt.”

Ethan shook Ullr’s hand. “Ethan Locke, Chosen One.”

Ullr arched a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. “What now?”

Now it was Ethan’s turn to be confused. “You mean you haven’t heard of me?” Truth be told, he’d gotten kind of used to everyone automatically knowing who he was. “You know, from Hecate’s prophecy?”

Ullr shrugged. “Never heard of it. But then again, I don’t get out much. I spend a lotta my time in the forest, you know? Hunting Hábrók takes up a lot of my time.”

“Speaking of, who is that?”

“Who, Hábrók?” Ullr asked, adjusting his glove. Ethan nodded. Ullr waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Just some giant hawk that is supposedly un-killable.” He smiled, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “But I can supposedly kill anything. Makes for an interesting hunt, don’t it?”

Ethan shrugged. “I guess.” He looked around again, and noticed that he and Ullr were standing in the middle of a dirt path that seemed to wind up back to the top of the hill. He pointed in the direction of the path. “Will this take me back up top?”

Ullr nodded. “Yep. Why, you wanna get back to your friends?” Ethan nodded, and then Ullr shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Before I shot you down, I sent a deer messenger up to them. Told ’em to meet us at Dain’s encampment.”

“Us?” Ethan asked.

“Well, yeah,” Ullr said. “You didn’t think I’d just let you wander around on your own, did you? I know this forest like the back of my hand. I can get you to Dain’s encampment in less than an hour.”

“You keep saying that,” Ethan pointed out. “Who’s Dain and what’s his encampment?”

“King of the Light Elves,” Ullr replied. “Freyr, Freyja’s brother, is king of the whole realm of Alfheim, but there’s a lotta species in Alfheim to look after. So Freyr appointed Dain as king of the Light Elves, to make things a bit easier on himself.” As he spoke, Ullr was adjusting the string on his bow. “As for the encampment, well, the Light Elves have been under siege from the fire giants of Muspelheim for quite some time now. Seems that something’s been weakening the barrier between the realms. Alfheim and Muspelheim are close to full-out war. A military encampment sorta makes sense, don’tcha think?”

Ethan considered that. “I guess so.” He looked back up the path, suddenly torn between trusting Ullr and going with the god, and just going back up to the hill anyway. “And you’re sure they’ll meet us there?”

“Positive,” Ullr said. “The deer gave ’em directions and everything. I mean, we’ll get there first, of course, but you’ll see ’em again soon.”

Ethan was quiet for a few moments, contemplating this. Ullr seemed like a pretty good and trustworthy guy. He’d rescued Ethan from Hábrók, after all. And anybody who was the god of glory couldn’t be evil, right? When his mind was finally made up, he announced, “Okay. Let’s go, then.”

Ullr grinned. “Alrighty. Follow me, Chosen One.” He put a special, facetious emphasis on the title, making Ethan laugh. For a guy who’d just survived two different life-or-death situations in less than ten minutes, Ethan seemed pretty light-hearted. Maybe that had something to do with finding friends in the strangest places.

***

Ullr knelt down, inspecting something in the dirt. Ethan walked up next to him, and saw that the god’s face was knotted with concentration. So he didn’t say anything for a few moments, but after a while, Ullr hadn’t moved at all. Just staring down at the dirt. So Ethan decided to say something. “What are you looking at?”

“Tracks,” Ullr said. “Warg tracks. And a lot of ’em, too.” He traced his fingers through the dirt gently, still staring down at the tracks that Ethan couldn’t see. “A whole pack, I’d bet. And, what’s more, I’d bet the leader of the pack is the very same warg you got away from.”

Ethan suddenly felt very scared. “A—are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“How do you know? How can you tell?”

Ullr pointed to a small bed of trampled grass off to the left, just a few feet in front of them. “Because the tracks veer off into the brush and then those tracks go back behind us.” He reached a gloved hand down to grip the handle of one of his hatchets. “We’re being hunted.”

Now Ethan was extremely scared. “What do we do?”

“Keep going,” Ullr said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re probably watching us right now. Wargs are incredibly intelligent creatures, and chances are they’ve expected us to notice the tracks and are waiting to see what we do about it.” Ethan nodded. That made sense, in a weird way. “Best to keep going and act like we don’t know.”

Ethan nodded again. “Okay. So…act natural, then?”

“Precisely.”

Ullr stood up and started walking, and Ethan followed him. “So—so do you still think we’re gonna get to the encampment before Malina and Andrew?” He asked Ullr, a bit too loudly.

“For Odin’s sake, kid, if this is your idea of natural…” Ullr grumbled. “But yeah, even with this shit we should still get there first. Ain’t nobody know these woods like I do.”

“Okay, good.” Ethan risked looking around, trying to spot the warg, but he couldn’t see anything. Then he felt Ullr grip his shoulder and yank him forward. 

“Don’t look around,” the god hissed. “Like I said, they’re smart as all hell. The second they realize we’re onto them, they’ll attack.”

“Right. Right, sorry,” Ethan apologized quickly. He turned his gaze back to the path ahead, but it was still too hard for him to stay calm and act natural. The only reason Ullr could do it was because he was the freaking god of hunting. Of course this was easy for him. For Ethan, it was one of the most nerve-wracking things he’d ever done. And he’d asked out Georgia Sanders in sophomore year of high school.

And then, suddenly, the bushes next to Ethan rustled ever so slightly. “Ah, shit, they know we know,” Ullr cursed, taking his hatchets off of their belt loops. “Brace yourself, kid, ’cause we’re about to be attacked.”

“How long do we—” Evidently not long at all, because in seconds two wargs were leaping from the bushes, snapping and frothing. Ethan jumped back, yelping, and Ullr lunged forward. He caught one of the wargs on the leg, sending it down to the ground with a pained whine. The second warg went straight for Ullr's ankle, but Ethan, who had managed to recollect himself, knocked it back with a blast of air. It crashed into the bushes, and, for good measure, Ethan created a pit where it had landed. He heard it fall and hit the ground below with an irritated growl.

Ullr grabbed Ethan’s hand and pulled him forward. “Come on, kid, run!”

Ethan ran.

Ullr and Ethan raced down the path, the howls of the fallen wargs alerting all the other wargs to what was going on. And, within moments, a whole pack of wargs were on their tail, roaring and snarling. Ethan pounded through the dirt, sweating hard and breathing fast, desperate to outrun the warg pack. Ullr was just ahead of him, running smoothly and not even breaking a sweat. Ethan, not about to be left behind, tapped into a burst of adrenaline and surged forward.

But even that wasn’t enough, because the next thing Ethan knew, he was on the ground, a warg on top of him and digging its claws into his back. “Shit!” he shouted, trying to roll over but to no avail. The warg had him pinned. And its brethren were starting to gather, ready to move in for the kill whenever told.

Ethan scrabbled forward, willing the earth around him to rise. Two ripples of dirt knocked the rest of the wargs back, and a single square of dirt beneath him threw him upwards. The warg on his back fell off, startled. Ethan tried to use the air to quickly push him to his feet, but the warg had other ideas. It lashed out, cutting his ankle with its claws. Ethan cried out and fell again, turning over to his back as he did. He saw that this warg, evidently the leader of the pack, was in fact the same one Ethan had escaped earlier. He could tell by the burn mark on its snout.

It snarled, and advanced on him slowly. Ethan looked around frantically. Where was Ullr? He’d abandoned Ethan, gone off to save his own ass instead of risking sacrificing himself trying to save Ethan. It turned out, it seemed, that gods of glory could be evil.

The other wargs, having recovered from Ethan’s attack, started to encircle him. They all pawed forward slowly but surely, waiting for their leader’s command before they attacked. If Ethan lashed out with his fire now, there was a chance he could take out one, maybe two before the rest of them attacked and killed him. That wasn’t worth it. He could create a dirt shell around him, but the wargs would break through that easily. And air and water weren’t much use to him here. It truly looked like Ethan was about to die.

But then, a ferocious war cry rang out. Ethan and the wargs all looked up to see none other than Ullr, jumping down from the trees in a fierce and frankly terrifying display of power. He hit the ground, and immediately started lashing out with his hatchets. Ullr turned into a blur, yelling and striking at every warg that dared challenge him. He was a force of nature, an unstoppable killing machine.

And Ethan, for one, was glad to have him on his side.

In a few minutes, all but one warg lay dead on the ground. The warg remaining was the leader, staring at Ullr and giving him a low growl. But Ullr stood his ground. He raised his hatchets, dug his feet into the dirt, and roared at the warg, wordlessly challenging it to fight him and letting it know that it would die if it did.

Without a sound, the warg turned and ran off into the forest.

Breathing heavily, Ullr hooked his hatchets back onto the loops. The blades, his cloak, and especially his face were coated in blood. He turned towards Ethan and held out his hand. Ethan took it, and Ullr helped him to his feet. “Thanks,” Ethan said shakily. 

“Don’t mention it,” Ullr grunted, walking past Ethan and further down the path. “Just glad we got it over with.”

Ethan took a second to catch his breath. And then he followed Ullr. For a second, he’d been about to thank God that he’d survived. But then, he’d realized, he was thanking the wrong one. God wasn’t the reason Ethan was alive. Ullr was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the action in this chapter began pretty quickly. I'm aware. But there wasn't really any point in dawdling around when the plan was to have Ethan be in mortal danger within a few minutes of arriving on Alfheim. Might as well jump right in, right? Also, fun fact: Ullr is not in my original plot map for this series. He never made an appearance anywhere. But now he's here, so...I guess I'll have to roll with it. Will he stick with the crew, or be gone as soon as Ethan's back with his friends? Not even I know. This story practically writes itself, people!
> 
> But anyway. Pronunciations:  
> Warg = WARRG (pronounce the "ar" like a pirate "arr")  
> Hábrók = HAY-bruk  
> Ullr = OOL (yeah, surprisingly, there's no "r" sound)
> 
> The song is "The Hunter" by Mastodon. 
> 
> Alrighty, that's it for now, folks. Catch you next time!


	17. Get Up, Get Into It, Get Involved

Alfheim was already a disaster. Something like five minutes in, and Malina and Andrew had already been separated from Ethan. Malina wanted to kick herself for being so stupid. This never would have happened if she’d only taught Ethan how to properly land when exiting a portal. If he’d known that, he would have landed on his feet instead of falling down the hill. And if Ethan had never fallen down the hill, then she wouldn’t be so distraught about his safety right now. And, on top of that, she’d even forced him into going through the portal first. If she hadn’t done that simple little action, that seemingly harmless prank, then they wouldn’t be in this situation because either she or Andrew would have been there already to catch Ethan and save him from falling. Malina didn’t want to but couldn’t help from silently berating herself over and over for causing this to happen. 

The only consolation Malina had was that Ethan was with Ullr. The deer messenger that the Norse god had sent had explained everything: Ullr would take Ethan to the Light Elves’ home, and Malina and Andrew would meet them there. The deer had even given them directions. Walk 500 paces and then turn left at the oak tree. Then walk 200 paces and… They were complicated directions, but Andrew was keeping count of how many paces they were walking. He was staring at the ground, counting to himself in deep concentration.

Malina had to be sure to thank Ullr for saving Ethan’s life and rescuing him from that giant hawk thing. She sort of owed him for keeping their precious Chosen One from dying. Ullr hadn’t been seen in centuries, choosing to be like Thoth and distance himself from the rest of the gods. Malina had been shocked when she’d learned that Ullr had been the one to rescue Ethan. The Norse god had long ago sworn to never get involved in godly affairs ever again, and yet here he was helping a complete stranger and, in doing so, breaking his own vow. Malina would be forever grateful.

But, Malina suddenly thought, even though Ethan was probably alive, there was no telling what state he was in. Malina had watched him fall from the hawk’s grasp. He’d hit the trees hard. For all she knew, he was on the verge of death and Ullr was just barely able to keep him alive, if at all.

Malina began to worry even more and wanted to start walking faster, but that would make Andrew lose count. So she kept the pace, fidgeting and worrying and feeling just like she had when Ethan had been missing. Gods, she hated this feeling. And she hated this war. And she hated this quest. She’d been assigned to protect Ethan, and what was the one job she couldn’t do? Protect Ethan.

She was so lost in thought that for a few seconds she didn’t hear Andrew slowly getting louder with his counting. “Seven hundred and fifty…seven hundred and fifty-one…seven hundred and fifty-two…seven hundred and fifty-three paces.” He stopped, and looked up at Malina. “This should be the spot with the big rock shaped like a pancreas.”

Malina shook her head. “These directions are so weirdly specific. Leave it to a hunter like Ullr to think they make any sense to a normal person.” She looked around the clearing they’d walked into, trying to spot the pancreas rock. “And how do you keep track of all these paces, anyway?”

“Extreme and unbroken concentration,” Andrew replied, also searching for the rock. They continued on looking in silence for a few moments when Andrew stopped, looked at her, and said, “Do you even know what a pancreas looks like?”

Malina paused for a minute before admitting, “No.”

“Well, Ullr said to turn left at the rock shaped like a pancreas,” Andrew said. “And this is where the rock is supposed to be. Can’t we just…you know, turn left right here?”

Malina considered that for a moment. “But what if the rock is placed at the front of a specific path that we have to take?”

Andrew shrugged and looked around. “I don’t see any specific paths. Looks to me like it’s just left or right.” Malina looked, too, and saw that he was right. Although there were openings in the trees all around them, there really only seemed to be one main path to take in each direction. 

So Malina just shrugged in response and said, “Okay, let’s go then.”

She and Andrew turned and began to just walk to the left. As they went beyond the tree-line and reentered the forest, Andrew said, “And from here I think we just walk in a straight line until we reach the camp. No counting paces required.”

Malina arched an eyebrow. “You think? You think or you know?”

“I’m, like, ninety-nine-percent sure.”

In all honesty, that was good enough for Malina. She wanted to get back to Ethan so she could make sure he was safe. In the month or so that she’d spent with him so far—excluding, of course, the two months when he’d been missing—he’d really come to grow on her. At first, he had irritated the hell out of her; always asking questions, being really slow to come to obvious conclusions, and generally just being annoying all around. But, Malina now realized, all of that was because of his rough transition from a mortal life to whatever the hell anyone could call this life. She understood now that he was just trying to adjust and cope in his own way, and he had really shown her a different side of him since then. Lion-hearted, righteous, and thinking fast on his feet…those were not things that Malina would have used to describe Ethan when she’d saved him from Sehaqeq back at Yale. But she would use them now, and use them proudly. She really was proud of how far Ethan had come, and was prouder still to call him a friend.

And what kind of friend was she if she kept letting danger befall him like this? She knew that, one day, Ethan wouldn’t need anyone to protect him. But for now, he did. And since Malina had saved him from Sehaqeq, she sort of felt responsible for him. So she felt like she was failing Ethan and those responsibilities. And Malina hated failure.

“So do you think Babi’s at the encampment?” Andrew asked, clearly trying to break the silence by making casual conversation.

“He better be,” Malina grumbled. “I’m not looking forward to any more stupid side quests.”

“Amen to that.”

It was actually not that long of a walk from where the pancreas rock was meant to be, to the Light Elves’ encampment. Pretty soon, Malina and Andrew were approaching an enormous wooden wall with sharp wooden stakes lining the tops of the wall. Malina stopped in front of the wall and looked to either side. The smoothly carved and sanded wood stretched out for roughly a few hundred yards, and then curved away out of sight, forming what seemed to Malina to be a gargantuan circle of wood smack in the center of the forest. And the thing that really stood out to Malina was that there didn’t seem to be a door.

“So how do we—” she started to ask, but was cut off by a small voice shouting at her from the top of the wall.

“Halt! Who goes there?” the voice cried.

Andrew held out a hand, signaling to Malina to let him handle it. “Anshar of Babylon and Malina of the Inuit Peoples!” he shouted back up. “We are here to seek safe passage to the Light Elves’ military encampment. We come as friends, not foes,” he added with a shrug directed at Malina. She smirked. He had no idea what he was doing. He never did, when he was trying to be diplomatic. Andrew usually just said things that sounded as polite as possible and hoped for the best. 

The voice at the top of the wall was silent for a few moments. Malina suspected that, whoever it was, was relaying what Andrew had said to someone else. And then: “What business do you have here?”

“We are here to speak to King Dain concerning the whereabouts of Babi, baboon god of Egypt,” Andrew replied. “We were told King Dain would know where to find him.” Malina arched her eyebrow; that was a lie. They had no idea whether or not King Dain would know where Babi was. They were only hoping he would. And from what Malina knew, the Light Elves were very good at detecting lies and were not particularly tolerant of those who told them.

Fortunately, the voice never even mentioned the lie; instead, after an even longer period of silence than the first one, it said, “You have been vouched for by the hunter god Ullr. You may enter.” 

As Malina watched the wall, a thin sliver of light shot down from the top to the bottom and came to a rest, reshaping itself into a barely human-sized portal. Malina had to crouch to enter it, but enter it she did, and eagerly, too. They had been vouched for by Ullr. He’d probably told them that they were trustworthy. But the fact that Ullr was there at all told Malina that Ethan was there, too, already in the encampment and likely waiting for them. Malina couldn’t stop praying—partially to Helios, partially to herself—that he was okay.

Malina came out on the other side of the portal and looked around. She had to admit, the stronghold didn’t look particularly…strong. It was an enormous circular area cut out of the forest to make room for wooden cabins and pitched tents that randomly littered the space, all surrounding a tall, three-story-high house in the center of it all that Malina suspected was Dain’s home. But there were no visible fortifications besides the giant wooden wall, and, on top of that, the wall was wooden. Everything in the stronghold was wooden, except the tents, but those were cloth. Not a smart move if the enemy was a bunch of fire giants, Malina mused. She hoped the Light Elves weren’t that stupid; but then again, the Light Elves had never gone to war before. They probably didn’t know the necessary measures that needed to be taken. If she got a chance, maybe she’d educate them.

A loud creaking sound suddenly pierced Malina’s thoughts, and she looked up to see a makeshift wooden elevator suspended by a rope-and-pulley system descending from the top of the wall. It took a few moments for it to hit the ground, but when it did, the door swung open and out sauntered a tiny little man who was no higher than Malina’s waist. 

Malina had to keep herself from laughing at his clothes. He was wearing a bright green shirt that was entirely too big for him, and drooped down below his knees, and from then on his legs were bare. Malina doubted he was wearing pants. The sleeves were all ruffled up so his hands could be out in the open, but they still kept slipping back into the sleeves anyway. His face was unnaturally pale, the only splash of color being his rosy red cheeks and his bright gray eyes. On top of his head he wore a drooping green cap that fell all the way down to the small of his back. And his feet—good gods, his feet made any trace of humor disappear. They were disgusting. He was barefoot, which exposed the fact that his toes actually curled upwards and over his feet, making Malina seriously rethink her theory on the uncomfortableness of curled elven shoes. 

“Follow me,” the elf said in an extremely high-pitched voice. Malina suppressed a snicker as Andrew glared at her. “Your friends are waiting for you in King Dain’s home. He has said he would like to speak to all four of you together.”

Malina and Andrew followed the little elf as he walked towards the large house in the center of the stronghold. “Four?” Andrew muttered, so only Malina could hear. “That means Ullr is still here. I thought he would have left by now.”

“If Dain wants to talk to him then he’s probably being kept here whether he likes it or not,” Malina whispered back. “But what does Dain want with Ullr? Ullr hasn’t shown his face in centuries. People barely know him anymore. I was really surprised when I found out from that deer that it was Ullr who saved Ethan.”

Andrew shrugged. “Whatever it is, it must be important.” Malina had to agree.

The elf dropped them off at the front door, said, “Knock and wait for his permission to enter,” and shuffled away on his grotesque feet that Malina couldn’t stop staring at.

Andrew knocked, and then stepped back as they waited. For a few moments nothing happened. And then, from the inside, a male voice called, “You may enter, friends!”

Malina pushed open the door and looked around as she walked in. The bottom floor was just one big room with a single staircase on the right wall that led up to the second floor. It was nice and homey, with a living area taking up most of the space and a small mini-kitchen off to the side, boasting a stove and, surprisingly, a mini-fridge. 

The living area consisted of several beautifully carved wooden couches with cushions (thank the gods) woven from leaves, all gathered around a small stone furnace that gave off a small but comfortable amount of heat. On the floor was an ornate and expertly woven rug that gave Malina vertigo from all the intertwining patterns on it. 

Sitting on the couch facing the door was a man dressed a dirty cloak and sporting a thick beard. He looked very angry and clearly didn’t want to be there. Malina assumed that this was Ullr.

Sitting on the couch next to him, to the right, was a small male elf dressed in regal clothes—that actually fit him—and sporting a makeshift crown made of twigs and berries. Ullr looked up at Malina and Andrew disinterestedly as they entered before going back to literally twiddling his thumbs. The elf, however, looked up at them and smiled broadly. “Greetings, friends. I am Dain, king of the Light Elves. Have a seat. We have much to discuss.”

As Malina went to sit down, she noticed a figure sitting on the couch across from Ullr and Dain. The back of this person’s head was facing her, so she couldn’t see their face, but she had a good idea of who it was. She excitedly moved to sit down next to him, giving him an enormous hug as she did. “Hey, kid.”

Her hug almost made Ethan drop the scone he was eating. But when he saw it was Malina, he smiled up at her. “Hey. Took you guys long enough.”

Malina laughed and sat down on Ethan’s right, while Andrew sat to his left. Dain picked up a plate of scones from a small table next to his couch and passed it to Andrew, who picked one up and passed it to Malina. She picked up a nice cinnamon one, and offered the plate to Ullr, who wordlessly shook his head. Malina shrugged and took another one before handing the plate back to Dain.

“Now,” the elf king said as he set the plate down. “I trust the two of you had a much better trip here than Ullr and Ethan Locke?”

For the first time, Malina noticed the blood on Ethan’s shirt. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”

Ethan shrugged. “Got attacked by a bunch of wargs, is all. No biggie.”

“No biggie?” Andrew asked incredulously. “Most people never escape a single warg. You fought off a whole pack?”

“Not just fought off,” Ethan said through a mouthful of scone. “Killed. Well, not me. Ullr did it all. You guys should’ve seen him. He was a goddamn powerhouse. It was amazing.” He turned eagerly toward the god. “Tell them, Ullr.”

Ullr grunted. “Just what I’m good at. And I’d like to be back out there, being good at things like that. If you could maybe let me leave, Dain,” he added with a sideways glare at the elf king.

“Soon, my friend,” Dain promised. “But, as I said, we have much to discuss, and I have something great I must ask of you all.” He leaned forward, and looked around at all four of them before saying, “As I’m sure you’re all aware, as of late Alfheim has been bleeding into Muspelheim, and as a result we Light Elves have gone to war with the fire giants.”

“Right,” Malina said. “About that. You guys are aware everything here is made of wood and other flammable materials, correct?”

Andrew reached behind Ethan and shoved her as Dain ignored her and continued. “The fire giants have set up a base in the mountains. We elves are, unfortunately, not very good at traversing to such heights, preferring instead to stay on the forest floor where we know the landscape.” He sat back in his seat, and continued sheepishly, “I hate to ask this of you all, but it would seem that with no help from Asgard, you four will be the only form of reinforcement we’ll ever get.”

“Wait,” Ethan said, a measure of disbelief in his tone. “Hold up. You’re asking us to go to the mountains and fight the fire giants for you?” He looked around at everybody in the room with wide eyes, as if looking for someone to back him up on his point. “Isn’t there an entire army of them? And only three of us?”

“You will have Ullr with you,” Dain said, seeming confused. “I thought that was obvious.”

“You’re sending me on a suicide mission without even asking my permission?” Ullr asked, incredulous. “Dain. Come on.”

“You singlehandedly killed all but one of an entire pack of wargs, my friend,” Dain reminded him. “If anyone can safely accompany these three to the giants’ stronghold, it is you. I have faith in your skills.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but Dain—what makes you think we would do this for you?” Malina interrupted.

“That’s very rude,” Andrew said quietly.

“I don’t want to sound heartless here,” Malina continued, choosing to ignore him, “but this isn’t our fight. We came to Alfheim to find Babi, and ran into a little bit of trouble, which is the only reason we’re even here. So I’m sorry, Dain, but we can’t afford to help you here. We have to find Babi.”

“Ah, yes,” Dain said, picking up a scone and taking a bite. “Your mortal friend Ethan Locke informed me of your quest shortly before you arrived. This is a, I believe the mortal saying is, a ‘two-birds-with-one-stone’ situation.”

“Oh, shit,” Andrew muttered.

“Babi came to our stronghold many moons ago, shortly after the first attack from the fire giants,” Dain explained. “He was here seeking spiritual enlightenment, but after learning of our perilous situation, he bravely volunteered to fight with us. In the most recent attack, however, Surtr himself led the charge, and while Babi was attempting to keep him from breaching our walls, he was captured by the fire giants and brought back to their stronghold, where he remains.”

“So you’re saying that if we want to find Babi, we have to go do what you want?” Malina asked.

“In less selfish terms, yes.”

“Great,” Malina muttered, mildly furious at this turn of events. “Just great.”

“So what do we do, then?” Ethan asked. “We’re not trackers. How do you propose we get there if Ullr won’t come with us?”

“Never said I wouldn’t come, kid,” Ullr said quietly. He turned to Dain. “You guarantee a fight with Surtr if we do what you say?”

“It is highly likely, yes,” Dain said. 

Ullr was quiet for a few moments before replying, “Okay. I’m in.”

“But you just said it was a suicide mission,” Andrew argued.

“I have business with Surtr,” Ullr growled. “Let’s just say I’ll help you and leave it at that, okay?”

“I should warn you, however,” Dain interrupted, “that Surtr will not be alone. On the most recent attack, where Babi was taken, Surtr was accompanied by the ice giants.”

“Ice giants?” Malina asked, confused. “But they’re in Jotunheim. And they never get involved in affairs like this.”

“And now they have,” Dain said gravely. “It would seem that Surtr has joined forces with Ymir to unite the giants under one banner to fight with the rising forces of Tiamat and her chaos.”

“Oh, shit,” Andrew said, suddenly looking very scared. “Ymir?”

“I’m sorry, who are these people?” Ethan asked, looking around. “You guys keep forgetting I don’t know these names.”

“Surtr is the king of the fire giants,” Malina told him. “And Ymir…well, he was the first giant. The original from which all the ice giants spawned. Over time, some of the ice giants migrated to Muspelheim to become fire giants, but Ymir is still the father of them all.” She looked at Dain. “But Odin killed him. Ymir’s body created Midgard.”

“Earth is a body?” Ethan asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes, that is true,” Dain confirmed. “But Eris, it would seem, has been fed additional power from Tiamat’s rising chaos. Not only has she used that power to free Abaddon from his underworld prison, but she has also pulled Ymir’s soul from oblivion and fashioned it a new, smaller body, made of unbreakable crystalline ice.” 

“I remember something about Abaddon being raised,” Ethan spoke up. “Isn’t that why you said we were leaving Rangiroa a week early, Malina?”

Malina nodded. “Eris is Tiamat’s second general. In Greek mythology, she’s the embodiment of chaos, so she feeds off of Tiamat’s power the most.” She glared at Andrew. “I told everyone it was a bad idea to leave her free and roaming the world, but nobody ever did anything about it.”

“We never expected her to be able to free Abaddon ahead of schedule,” Andrew argued. “Tiamat fed her more power than we’d planned for.”

“Who’s Abaddon?” Ethan asked, looking confused again.

“A demon from Judeo-Christian mythology,” Andrew answered. “And a nasty one, too. He’s Tiamat’s first general. Better hope you never have to meet him.”

“Can we get back to the task at hand?” Ullr snapped. “Ymir and Surtr. We gotta go to their stronghold, rescue this Babi guy, and kill them, right?”

“Sounds like it,” Malina agreed. “Didn’t think I’d have to do any killing today, but hey, I’m always up for it.”

Ullr actually chuckled. “Funny.”

“I thank you all deeply for helping us to retaliate against the giants and to rescue Babi,” Dain said to all of them, a sincere smile on his face. “You will be greatly rewarded upon your return. This, I can promise you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Malina said, taking the last bite of her cinnamon scone. “Don’t go making promises just yet. First, we have to return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a fight, y'all! A major battle (or two) is brewing on the horizon, and our heroes are gonna have Ullr by their side. I've decided to keep him around for now, but I have no idea how much longer he'll stick around. So for now, enjoy Ullr's company, because he could be gone in a flash.
> 
> But regardless! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, 'cause it's about to get real damn intense.
> 
> Pronunciations:  
> Dain = DAYN  
> Surtr = SURR-turr  
> Ymir = EE-meer  
> Babi = BAH-bee
> 
> The song is "Get Up, Get Into It, Get Involved" by James Brown.
> 
> Catch you guys next time!


	18. Rescue Me

The path into the mountains was long, winding, and arduous. Every inch of Ethan’s leg muscles were screaming for rest. He was out of breath, out of water, and out of resolve to go fight a bunch of giants. And it didn’t help that Ullr was leading them through the muddiest path Ethan had ever walked on.

After he pulled his shoe out of the thick mud with yet another sickening schlepping sound, for maybe about the twentieth time, Ethan called up at Ullr, “How far away are we? My socks are starting to crust.”

“We’re almost there,” Ullr called back, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

“You’ve been saying that for the past hour,” Malina complained as she picked thorns out of her shirt. “What’s your definition of ‘almost’? Sure as hell isn’t mine.”

“If I say we’re almost there, then we’re almost there,” Ullr snapped. “Do you want me to be your wilderness guide or not?”

Ethan snorted. “Wilderness guide. Makes this sound like a field trip.”

“Shitty field trip,” Andrew grumbled just as he walked into a cobweb. He yelped and jumped back, waving his hands wildly as he tried to brush the webs off of him. 

Ullr glanced back disinterestedly. “Get over it, guy, it’s just a cobweb.”

“I happen to be allergic to Alfheimian spider venom, guy,” Andrew shot back as he inspected himself for any new eight-legged friends. 

Ullr snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”

Ethan stepped behind Andrew and brushed off the spider he spotted on the god’s back. Andrew turned and nodded his thanks at Ethan before stumbling forward, trying to catch up with Malina and Ullr. Ethan picked up his pace, too, but they were currently climbing uphill, making their way up the mountain that the giant stronghold was on. The climb was steep, and with his mud-filled shoes and fast-crusting socks, it was hard for Ethan to find proper footing. Especially, he noticed, when he was shaking so much.

It wasn’t that it was cold. In fact, the only pleasant thing about the journey was the comfortably warm air with the occasional breeze. It was that he was, to put it simply, incredibly scared. What Malina had said back at Dain’s house—“First we have to return”—had scared the living shit out of him. For whatever reason, it hadn’t crossed Ethan’s mind until then that they might not live to tell the tale. After it had been explained to him exactly who Ymir and Surtr were, Ethan remembered some things from his college mythology course; things like how it had taken more gods than just Odin many years to finally kill Ymir, and how Surtr was prophesized to begin Ragnarok, a.k.a. the end of the world. The two of them certainly seemed like very powerful giants to Ethan. He honestly wasn’t sure if a team of just him, Malina, Andrew, and Ullr would be able to take both giants down, even if Ullr was fueled by his unknown grudge against Surtr. And that was assuming that they didn’t run into any other angry giants on their way to find Ymir and Surtr. The way Ethan was seeing it, there wasn’t a strong chance they would all make it. He certainly hoped they would, but the pessimist in Ethan—which seemed to be getting stronger by the day—told him it was unlikely. 

Ethan’s thoughts were interrupted when he tripped over a group of thick vines snaking along the ground. He face-planted right into the mud, trying not to gag when he came up and felt his face covered in the dirt and mud. He felt two hands help him, and when he wiped the mud out of his eyes, he saw that it was Andrew. Andrew also handed Ethan his left shoe, which he hadn’t even noticed had come off his foot. 

“Thanks,” Ethan muttered as he knelt down and tried to slip the shoe back on. Everything about his feet were muddy and slippery, so it took him a few tries, but eventually he got it. Malina halfheartedly offered him a big leaf to wash his face off with. Ethan accepted it and found that it didn’t do a lot, but at least he could see okay.

“You done taking a nap in the mud, or do you need me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Ullr, I swear to God—”

***

The stronghold was a lot smaller than Ethan had pictured. He’d thought that, you know, since they were giants, it would be huge. But, as Malina informed him, that wasn’t the case.

“Giants aren’t as big in real life as they are in the myths,” she told him as they trudged along the narrow, dusty trail that winded up the mountainside to the huge iron building. “The smaller ones are only about seven, eight feet tall. Biggest they can get is about fifteen feet.”

“So why do we call them giants?”

She shrugged. “I guess people were just shorter back in the old days.”

“Would the two of you be quiet?” Andrew hissed. “We’re trying to be stealthy here.”

“Listen to the sissy one,” Ullr whispered. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“Sissy?!”

Ullr led the three of them up the path to the point where they could no longer stand upright. Ullr motioned for them all to drop into crouches, and while he continued onward easily in that position, Ethan was having a lot more trouble. Almost immediately, his thighs were on fire, and he eventually just went into a crawling position. He noticed Malina was doing the same thing, although she didn’t look happy about it. Andrew, however, seemed perfectly fine to be waddling around like that.

It took a while, but eventually, the four of them ended up just outside the enormous iron building. There were no windows Ethan could see, and no entrances he could see, either. He looked at Ullr and raised a single eyebrow in question. Ullr just raised his hand slightly and made a beckoning motion. He waddled off at hyper speed and disappeared around the corner. Andrew was just behind him, and Malina and Ethan crawled as fast as they could.

When Ethan rounded the corner, he saw Ullr fiddling away at some metal slab of the building. He was digging into it with one of his arrowheads, and he seemed to be working at peeling it away. Just as the beads of sweat were forming on his concentration-wrenched forehead, Ullr finally managed a small smile as he pulled the slab away with a soft chunk. He pulled the one below it away, too, and the one next to that one, and then the one above that one, forming a small square that a single body could pass through. Ullr nodded towards it before quickly pushing himself through the hole, disappearing in a split second. Andrew followed him, and then Malina, and then finally Ethan.

Once Ethan had crawled inside, he got to his feet for the first time in a few minutes and looked around. The inside of the building looked surprisingly like some sort of palace interior. The room they had just crawled into was at the end of a long, regal-looking hall, with a lengthy royal blue carpet covering the marble-tiled floor and leading up to the golden stairway that branched off in two different directions once it hit the second floor. The walls were painted blood-red (Ethan had to wonder if it actually was blood) and decorated with awful things: bones, mounted heads, and, in a display that honestly made Ethan want to vomit, curtains that looked like they were made of skin.

“This is disgusting,” Malina whispered.

“Giants are disgusting,” Ullr whispered back. “To them, these are all trophies of past battles won.”

“They couldn’t have just taken the other guys’ weapons?” Andrew asked, a note of panic in his voice.

“Body parts or nothing,” Ullr said, shaking his head. “It’s like I said. Giants are a disgusting race.” He unclipped one of his hatchets from his belt and gripped it tight as he began inching forward down the hall. “Now, come on. Let’s find Surtr and waste his ass.”

“Um, no,” Malina hissed, grabbing his shoulder and stopping him. “I thought we agreed that we were gonna try and avoid confrontation. We came to find Babi, free him, and get out. Remember?”

Ullr snorted. “That’s assuming your monkey friend is still alive. Do you really think the giants wouldn’t have killed him?”

“This isn’t you fulfilling your grudge, Ullr,” Ethan told him sternly. “This is a rescue mission.”

“Or a trap,” Ullr reasoned. “Assuming Babi is alive, don’t you think the giants would have expected someone to come looking for him? And they probably only expected Dain and a bunch of elves. If you’re as important as you say, imagine how they’ll feel when they find that you walked into their trap.”

“How do you know this is a trap?” Andrew asked, still glancing around at the grotesque décor. “Giants aren’t that smart, from what I remember.”

“Sure, giants aren’t, but we’re not dealing with any old gang of giants,” Ullr reminded him. “We’re dealing with Ymir and Surtr, the two giant kings. I’d wager they’re pretty damn smart, and that they kidnapped Babi with every intention of someone coming looking for him.” He glanced over at Ethan. “And like I said…when they find out it’s you—damn, they’re gonna have a field day.”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Malina said, flexing her hand as it began to glow with light magic. “We need Babi. Whether he’s alive or not, we have to find him.”

“And if he’s dead?”

“Then we enter the spirit world if we have to,” Malina said, her face hard. “Like I said. We need Babi. We came here to find him, so that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. And if you wanna fight Surtr so bad, then go and find him. Be my goddamn guest. But your grudge with him isn’t our grudge. Don’t expect us to back you up.”

Ullr looked at her for a long time, his jaw firm and his eyes fiery. But Malina stared him down right back, never once showing a hint of weakening resolve. For a while, they just stood there staring at each other, until Ullr finally smirked. “Alright then. Let’s find the monkey.”

He turned and started walking down the hall. Ethan, feeling very confused at his sudden change in temperament, hissed after him, “Wait, so…you don’t wanna fight Surtr anymore? Just like that?”

“I’ll still fight Surtr if we run into him,” Ullr replied, not stopping or turning around. “But for now I’ll do what the girl says because she’s the only one of you with a pair of balls.”

Malina straightened her back, a smug expression on her face, and followed Ullr. Andrew snickered to himself, jogging forward to catch up with Ullr. Ethan just sighed and trailed behind them all. 

Once they all reached the split in the stairs, they realized that each side of the stairs led into a different section of the second floor. They decided it would be more prudent to split up. Ullr went with Malina (simply because he liked her the best), and Ethan got Andrew. The two of them went up the right side of the stairs, and ventured into the darkened hallway.

“Ethan, can you give us some light?” Andrew whispered. At first Ethan was confused, but then he suddenly remembered that his horrible experience with Freyja back at Asgard hadn’t been for nothing. He summoned the fire from deep within him, channeled it for a few moments, and then, just like that, his hand was on fire. But it didn’t hurt. In fact, it didn’t feel like anything; he felt completely normal. But now, at least they had light.

“Where do you think we are?” Ethan asked. “In the stronghold, I mean.”

“Impossible to tell,” Andrew said. “But personally, I think that if Babi’s gonna be anywhere, he’ll be in the prison wing. But whether that’s up or down or where we are right now—I couldn’t say,” he finished, shaking his head.

“So we could be here for a while, then.”

“Most likely.”

“Great,” Ethan grumbled.

The light only partially illuminated the dim hallway; Ethan could see Andrew, and a little ways in front of him, but other than that he couldn’t see much. He was vaguely aware of them passing many different doors as they traveled down the hallway, and was about to suggest that they check what was behind them before he remembered that that was probably a bad idea. So he mostly just kept quiet, and so did Andrew, until:

“I don’t like this.”

Ethan smirked. “Yeah. Neither do I, but—”

“No, I mean I don’t like how quiet this all is,” Andrew explained. “I mean, we probably should have encountered a whole horde of giants by now. Where are they?”

“We’re sneaking through the stronghold of the aggressive, bloodthirsty giants, and you’re complaining about not having to fight any?” Ethan asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Andrew muttered. “I’m just saying…it doesn’t bode well, is all. Doesn’t feel right.”

Ethan supposed he was right about that. But personally, Ethan was glad that they weren’t having to fight any horrific giants just yet. That was the sort of thing you needed to psych yourself up for, and all Ethan was feeling at the moment was nerve-wracking, body-shaking fear. The eerily-lit walls from the fire in his hand, the worry he was suddenly feeling for Malina and Ullr, the fear of not finding Babi in time, the fact that anything could jump out at him and Andrew at any moment and possibly kill them, and the worst part being, of course, that Andrew was 100% right—all of those things sort of came together to make Ethan a new kind of terrified.

The two of them walked on in silence, both of them scanning the doors on their respective sides of the hallway to see if they could spot anything suspicious, or anything that would lead them to Babi. Eventually, after what felt like hours of walking down the same hallway, the two of them turned a corner. And then, right of the bat, Ethan saw an enormous, iron-clad door with a gigantic lock on it. He nudged Andrew with his hand to get his attention, and Andrew, although startled by the sudden contact at first, broke out into a smile.

“If they’re keeping Babi anywhere, my guess is it would be in here,” he said, inspecting the door.

“Well, yeah, but…how do we get in?” Ethan asked. “That lock looks pretty solid. I don’t think I can melt it with just this fire. And I sure as hell don’t know how to pick a lock. Not even sure if I could pick this if I did.”

“Stop rambling,” Andrew muttered. “And, Ethan, one thing you need to learn about magic, is that where one’s magic fails, another’s excels,” Andrew replied, kneeling down in front of the lock. He placed his hand over it, and suddenly the room was filled with a warm breeze. Andrew blew into the lock, and the warm breeze rapidly dropped until it was a harsh winter wind, chilling Ethan to the bone. He was about to say something—probably complain—when he noticed that ice was beginning to form on the outside of the lock; ice that was coming, it seemed, from the inside.

“Holy shit,” Ethan breathed as Andrew slipped his finger inside the lock and fiddled around for a few moments. Ethan watched as Andrew’s face, wrought with concentration, suddenly eased as several piercing chikking sounds were heard. Andrew then pulled his finger out, and with it came the small tumblers that had once been inside the lock—now frozen and broken off. 

“Sky gods have some control over the winds and the air,” Andrew explained. “Wind gods like to pretend they’re special, though.” He stood up and stretched his legs a bit before testing the door. He pushed on it slightly, and, to Ethan’s surprise and both of their delight, the door opened slightly. 

Andrew grinned. “Magic solves nearly every unsolvable problem, Ethan,” he whispered as he pushed the door open, carefully and quietly. “But, of course, natural talents usually help, too,” he added with a snicker as he waved his fingers.

Andrew stepped through the door as Ethan followed him. “Does that mean what I think it means? Andrew. Andrew.”

***

The stone spiral stairway behind the door was long and seemingly never-ending. Still, they descended it slowly and quietly, with the fire on Ethan’s hand only slightly lit, so as to give them light but not to give away their presence. There was no railing, and the stairway was in the center of the pit beyond the door, so if one of them lost their balance and fell, there was no telling what fate would await them at the bottom. So Ethan and Andrew went down the steps as carefully and quietly as they could, hoping against hope that they’d find Babi when they reached the bottom.

Honestly, Ethan was beginning to wonder if they had any chance at finding Babi before getting found themselves. The stronghold seemed huge and, like Andrew said, it seemed impossible that they hadn’t already come across a giant, which meant the more time passed, the higher that chance was. And anyway, Ethan supposed, they could search this stronghold up and down and in and out, and never once get discovered, and still not find Babi. Because who was to say that Babi was even being kept here? Maybe he was kept in some secret prison building further up into the mountains. Ethan wanted to voice these concerns, but he knew that he had to be absolutely quiet now, so he kept his mouth shut for the time being.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the two of them reached the bottom of the stairs. Andrew and Ethan stepped off of them and onto a concrete floor in a concrete room with nothing in it but two doors that looked identical in every way. Both doors had signs above them, and both signs were written in a language Ethan couldn’t decipher.

“Those are ancient Nordic runes,” Andrew said, in the barest of whispers. “I happen to be fluent in Nordic runes, but this is a giant variation of them. And since they don’t usually know a lot of words, every word in the Giant Runes is written very similarly.” He pointed to the sign above the door on the left. “One of these definitely says ‘prison guard.’” Then he pointed to the other sign. “And one of these definitely says ‘prisoner.’” He looked back at Ethan and shrugged. “But I’ll be damned if I can tell you which is which.”

“Awesome,” Ethan grumbled.

“But the good news is, the prisoner is probably Babi,” Andrew said. “So if we pick the right door, we’ll find him.”

“And if we pick the wrong door, we’re dealing with an angry giant and discovery,” Ethan shot back. “That’s a pretty high risk, if you ask me. Isn’t there some way you can figure out which is which?”

Andrew looked back and forth between the two signs for a moment, before sighing and shaking his head. “Unfortunately, no. They’re just too similar, and I’m not familiar enough with Giant Runes. If these were regular Nordic runes, I could tell you easily. I’m sorry.”

“I know, it’s just—” Ethan looked back and forth between the two doors as he felt the anxiety in his gut rising. “This is a huge risk. I mean, you could basically call it life-or-death.”

“Nah, we could probably beat the prison guard,” Andrew assured him.

“But what happens when he sounds the alarm before we can, and suddenly every giant in this building is on us?” Ethan retorted. He took one final look between the two doors and stepped back, his anxiety too much. “I—I can’t do this. You pick.”

“Why me?”

“Because I’m too damn scared, Andrew,” Ethan hissed. “And scared people make bad decisions.”

“Who’s to say I’m not scared?” Andrew replied.

“Well, you seem a hell of a lot calmer than me.”

Andrew sighed. “Fine. Whatever.” He looked back and forth between the doors for the longest time. And then, finally: “When in doubt, pick the right door.” He walked past Ethan and towards the door on the right.

“Really? That’s your logic? Pick the right door?” Ethan asked in disbelief.

“You asked me to pick one, and I picked one,” Andrew said in annoyance. “Are you uncomfortable with my decision? Would you like to make one for yourself?”

Ethan’s response was just to huff, roll his eyes, and follow Andrew. This door had the same type of padlock on it that the other door had, so Andrew knelt down in front of him and did the same thing he had done earlier. Once the lock was frozen, Andrew reached inside, broke off the tumblers, and pulled them out. Then he got to his feet and, after taking a deep breath, slowly pushed open the door.

Once the space in the doorway was wide enough, Andrew slipped in, and Ethan darted in after him. The room beyond was dark, with light filtering in from only a small slit in the wall, close to the ceiling. Ethan saw a lone figure, huddled in the corner, and he immediately knew that they had picked the right room.

A bed was situated up against the wall, and the figure, who was sitting on the floor and leaning up against the bed. Chains attached to the figure’s wrists extended out and slid into a small hole in the wall. The figure was bulky and clearly very tall (despite the fact that they were sitting), and the thing that stood out the most to Ethan was the fact that the figure had a thin, scruffy tail extending out from its startlingly pink rear.

“Andrew,” Ethan whispered. “Is that—?”

“Shh,” Andrew shushed him, stepping forward. He reached out a hand and slowly reached toward the figure. “Babi? Babi, is that you?”

The figure slowly turned, and leaned into the light, where its primate face could clearly be seen. Ethan didn’t generally know the difference between different types of primates, but he could clearly tell that the figure sitting in front of him was a baboon.

“Who—who are you?” Babi asked. His voice was hoarse from disuse, and his fur was matted with dirt. “Are you with the giants?” He suddenly seemed to get angry. “What have you come to do? I’ve already told you all I know!”

“We’re not with them,” Andrew said, kneeling down to inspect Babi’s chains. “My name is Anshar. This here is Ethan Locke. He’s a mortal, but he’s learned how to wield magic. We’ve come to save you.”

“Anshar?” Babi asked, his voice shaking. “The sky god from Babylon?”

“The one and the same,” Andrew said, feeling the chains and looking up at Ethan. “Ethan, these chains are made of ice. Can you—”

“On it,” Ethan said, kneeling down next to Andrew. He lit his other hand on fire and laid them both on the chains, pouring all the heat he had into the ice. Within seconds, it was melting. 

“A—A mortal with fire magic…,” Babi said, sounding incredulous. “He—he could not be—could he?”

“Yes, he is,” Andrew said. “Ethan’s the person spoken of in Hecate’s prophecy. He Who Is One With All.”

“I still hate that name,” Ethan muttered as he finished up melting the chains. 

The chains finally broke, and Ethan extinguished his hands. He and Andrew helped Babi to his feet. Ethan noticed that while Babi was a baboon, through-and-through, his stature was humanoid, with him standing on two legs and holding the posture of a human. Babi also appeared to be about seven feet tall, so it was difficult for Ethan and Andrew to support him as the three of them staggered towards the exit, but fortunately they managed.

“We—we have to get out,” Babi breathed. “The—the giants—”

“Yes, we know, they’ve been torturing you,” Andrew said soothingly as Ethan pushed open the door. “But you don’t need to worry anymore. We’ve got you.”

“No—he—he is—”

“I believe what Babi is trying to tell you,” a gruff voice said from the darkness, “is that the giants left me to guard him.”

In a dramatic display that Ethan never thought he would see actually occur in real life, the room was suddenly lit up with the flickering light of torches hanging on the walls. Ethan was suddenly aware of the fact that the other door in the room was wide open, and that there was someone standing in front of them. It took Ethan’s eyes a second to adjust to the sudden light, but once they did, he saw exactly who they were up against. And he wasn’t too happy.

Standing in front of them was a red-eyed giant whose body was made entirely of ice. The crystalline substance was solid and not in the least bit transparent, and it was so cold that there was visible steam coming off of it. Everything about the giant was ice: its head, its body, its arms and legs, and even its bushy beard and its nose ring. The giant appeared to be about ten or eleven feet tall, and was incredibly bulky and stocky; its ice muscles were shimmering rather than rippling but that didn’t make Ethan any less terrified. And in its thick hands it held an enormous iron club.

“Ymir,” Andrew breathed, his voice wavering with panic. “What—”

“I just told you,” Ymir answered, narrowing his beady red eyes. “I was left here to guard the prisoner while the rest of the giants, along with Surtr, went further up the mountain, back to the rift that connects Alfheim and Muspelheim. They went through to get more weapons.” He set the nose of his club down on the ground and leaned on it like it was a cane. “At first I felt somewhat cheated, having been left behind from all the fun. But, Surtr needed someone here in case the elves were actually stupid enough to send someone after Babi and fall into our trap.”

“Ullr was right,” Ethan breathed.

Ymir arched an icy eyebrow. “Ullr? The Glorious One? So, he’s finally shown his face, has he?” The giant chuckled; a low, menacing, rumbling sound that shook Ethan to his core. “Well, I’m afraid he’s not going to be able to do you much good. If he’s escorted you here, chances are he’s gone further up the mountain to chase after Surtr. The two of them have had quite the rivalry for a long time now, it seems.” Ymir shrugged. “Surtr won’t tell me what it’s about, but it’s not important, I suppose.”

Ethan’s breathing quickened as he realized that Ymir probably didn’t know Ullr was in the building, and that Malina was with him. If Ymir was the only giant left in the stronghold, like he had said, then it was likely they hadn’t been discovered and that Ymir thought Ethan and Andrew had been the only ones to come rescue Babi. If Ethan could find a way to signal Ullr and Malina, or maybe stall for time—

Andrew, evidently having come to the same conclusion, suddenly said, “So, you’ve got us. Now what? You gonna smash us to death with that club or something?”

Ymir laughed again. “Normally, yes. But in this case, no.” He picked his club up and pointed it in Ethan’s direction. “You, boy. I sensed your power the moment you walked past my door. You hold great potential within you, and when Eris reformed me through the grace of Tiamat, she warned me to be on the lookout for one with such potential.” His frozen face split open into a maniacal grin. “And that, if I were to find that one, that I was to beat them to the edge of death and then call her.” He lifted his club. “I made her a promise, I’m afraid. And an ice giant is nothing without his integrity.”

Ethan only had a split second to react before Ymir slammed the club down. He pushed a still half-conscious Babi into Andrew and jumped off to the side. Andrew staggered, but managed to catch Babi and pushed him back into his cell, promising, “We’ll be back. Wait here,” before slamming the door shut. Ymir roared and swung the club in Andrew’s direction, and to Ethan’s horror, it looked like the god wasn’t going to be able to jump out of the way in time. But, just as Andrew had already proven twice over, sky gods seemed to have control over the winds. Andrew shut his eyes tight, and suddenly Ymir was propelled across the room with a great roar. Ymir slammed into the wall, leaving a sizeable dent, and fell to the floor.

But the primordial ice giant was not so easily defeated. Ymir was back on his feet within moments, and lunged for Ethan. Ethan created a wall of concrete in front of him that Ymir smashed into, but only one club swing from the ice giant shattered the wall and sent the pieces raining down on Ethan. Ethan rolled out of the way, but just barely, and he saw a piece of concrete slam down on where his foot just was. 

Ymir reacted fast; the second the wall was down, his club was in the air, and coming back down on Ethan. Fortunately, Ethan reacted fast, too; he raised his hands and created a dome of air above his head that the club bounced harmlessly off of. And then, suddenly, Andrew was there, using the air to hover over Ymir’s head and levitating one of the shattered concrete slabs down onto Ymir’s head. Ymir roared in anger, and turned to swipe at Andrew, but Andrew’s quick reaction time got him out of the way. Meanwhile, Ymir’s back was now to Ethan, who use the air to propel himself off the ground and straight to towards Ymir, his hands on fire and ready to melt the giant down.

Ethan’s flaming hands connected with the back of the ice giant’s head, and for a few moments, the extreme contrast between hot and cold created a hissing steam that briefly blinded Ethan. But, when the steam had dissipated, Ethan realized with a growing horror that his fire was doing absolutely nothing to melt the giant’s icy skin. In fact, Ethan’s hands had begun to freeze upon making contact with the ice giant. 

Ymir roared, and arched his back to throw Ethan off. Ethan just barely managed to use the air to cushion his fall, which resulted in almost broken back. Ymir swiveled to face Ethan as he sat up, and the ice giant laughed. 

“Puny mortal,” Ymir taunted. “I am sure the elf king Dain told you that the new body Eris crafted for me is unbreakable, yes? I’m sure you thought that meant I could still be melted?” He narrowed his eyes and raised his club. “Think again, Ethan Locke. I cannot be defeated!”

Still dazed and running out of energy to cast his magic, Ethan couldn’t react fast enough. The club was coming down hard and fast, and Andrew was too far away. Ethan shut his eyes, trying to resign himself to his fate while he still had time to, but then—

KADOOM. An enormous explosion that rocked Ethan over onto his back shook the room, and was followed by an angry roar from Ymir. Ethan opened his eyes to see none other than Malina standing on the stone stairway, her hand still glowing from the light magic she had just cast to blast Ymir through the wall and into the crust of the earth surrounding them. Standing next to her was Ullr, an arrow nocked and ready to fly.

“God, I hate it when villains taunt like that,” Malina grumbled as she charged up her other hand.

Ullr jumped down from the stairwell as Malina and Andrew charged at the still-dazed Ymir. The hunter god ran over to Ethan, putting his nocked arrow back in his quiver. “Hey, kid,” Ullr said, brushing the dust off of Ethan as he helped Ethan to his feet. “You good?”

Ethan nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, he just caught me off-guard, is all.” He looked up at Ullr. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you were all the way across the building.”

“Our half was a dead-end,” Ullr explained. “We were almost back at the staircase where we all split off when Malina and I heard the sounds of roaring. Figured it was you guys in some kind of fight, so we came running.”

“Glad you did.”

Ullr grinned and nocked an arrow. “Surtr might not be around, but I can at least settle for this big ugly asshole.”

Ethan turned just in time to see Ymir, who was back on his feet—very resilient, this one—and swinging his club at Andrew, who was dodging every attack while floating around in the air. Malina, meanwhile, was firing bolts of light at Ymir, but they seemed to be bouncing harmlessly off the invulnerable giant.

Ullr rushed at Ymir, leaping into the air as he fired his arrow. The arrow snapped in half as it connected with the giant, and Ymir turned to face Ullr. “Glorious One,” he sneered. “It has been too long.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ullr said, stowing his bow away in his cloak and unclipping his hatchets. “Let’s quit it with the monologuing, huh?”

Ymir charged Ullr, raising his club high and bringing it smashing down. Ullr nimbly leapt out of the way, and struck one of his hatchets at Ymir’s foot. It bounced off without leaving so much as a scratch as a loud ringing sound echoed through the room. Ymir kicked with his foot, and Ullr wasn’t fast enough; the foot connected, and Ullr was propelled across the room and slammed into the wall.

Andrew descended from the sky and sent a powerful gust of air straight at Ymir’s face. The ice giant stumbled backwards, and nearly stepped on Malina, who shrieked and darted out of the way. Ethan charged forward, summoned forth two of the concrete slabs from his broken wall, and sent them flying at Ymir’s chest. They connected and subsequently bounced right off, but not before Ymir decided he’d had enough of Andrew and threw his club right at the sky god. Andrew moved to dodge it, but the club hit his foot, sending him spiraling out of control right onto the ground.

Ymir turned to Ethan as he knelt down and picked up his club. “It’s been fun, Ethan Locke. You and your friends have given me quite the workout. But now I think it’s time I keep my promise to Eris, and beat you to the edge of death.” He grinned and stood up to his full height. “Can’t do that, though, if you’re still moving around. Harder to hit you, and, therefore, harder to bludgeon you.”

Ethan barely had any time to react before Ymir suddenly breathed in deeply, and then let it all out in a blast of frozen air. The air began to spread outwards in a blast radius with Ymir at its center, freezing everything it came across. Andrew tried to scrabble away, but his injured foot was caught by the ice, and barely had any time to cry out before he turned into an ice statue.

“Andrew!” Ethan cried out, instinctively darting forward and almost getting caught by the ice. He leapt back, yelping in fear, and backed up slowly, trying to stay away from the ice as Ymir casually strolled over towards him. Pretty soon, Ethan was backed up against the wall, right next to Ullr, who was barely conscious and trying to tell Ethan something.

“T—take it—take the b—”

“Take what?” Ethan asked, panic seeping into his thoughts and clouding his reasoning. “What do you need me to take?”

“I’m afraid you’ll never get to find out, Ethan Locke,” Ymir said, laughing as he swung his club and walked closer. “Because in a few moments, both you and him will be statues. I’ll thaw you and bludgeon you to near-death, as promised, and I’ll shatter your friends. Maybe I’ll keep Ullr, though; Surtr would like that very much, I’d think.”

Things were looking grim. Andrew was frozen, Ullr was in no state to do anything, Ethan was about to get frozen, and Malina—Ethan’s eyes widened as he saw her. Malina had managed to escape the ice by creating a floating disc of light that hovered just barely above the ice, keeping her from being frozen. She caught Ethan’s eye and put a finger to her lips. Ethan got the message and quickly turned back to face Ymir.

The ice was almost upon Ethan now; it was just about to reach his toes. It had already reached Ullr, who was sprawled across the floor whereas Ethan was huddled up against the wall. The hunter god’s legs were already half frozen. Ethan watched as Ymir raised his club. Ethan’s breathing quickened, hoping against hope that they could get out of this somehow. But even though Malina was still there, there didn’t seem to be much she could do.

That wasn’t about to stop her from trying, it seemed. With a vicious battle cry, Malina launched herself up into the air and wrapped her arms around Ymir’s neck. Ethan wanted to shout that no, she would freeze, but it was too late. Malina had successfully distracted Ymir, who was thrashing around and trying to throw her off, but not for too long. Already she was rapidly turning to ice.

Suddenly, Ethan felt a hand grip his shirt and pull him in close. Ullr leaned up to Ethan’s ear and whispered in a shaky, hoarse voice, “—the—the bow—his eye—” before collapsing to the ground. The gears in Ethan’s head began turning at light speed, and suddenly he knew what he had to do.

He reached his hand into Ullr’s cloak and pulled out the bow; just in time, too, because the ice quickly spread over Ullr’s chest. Ethan tried to reach under Ullr and pull out his quiver, but only managed to get one arrow before the quiver froze as well. Ethan shuddered, partially because of the cold, and partially out of fear, as he realized he’d only have one shot.

Ymir finally managed to throw Malina off of him, who was now fully frozen. Fortunately, Ymir was hunched over when he threw her off, so her statue didn’t shatter when it hit the ground. Ymir then stood back up, stretching to his full height as he turned to face Ethan, a maniacal grin on his icy face. He raised his club as Ethan nocked the arrow.

Ethan had never shot an arrow in his life. And now, his life and the lives of his friends depended on it.

The ice began to creep up Ethan’s legs. He had never known such cold; he didn’t even feel like his legs were there anymore, that was how numb they were. Ethan raised the bow, and tried to line up the shot through his wracking shivers.

Ymir roared and raised his club. Ethan screamed as he let the arrow fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, cliffhanger! Although you can probably guess the outcome of this situation, lol, but I'll still leave you in suspense for a little bit. So yeah, uh...enjoy living with that. Although most people reading this will probably be doing so after the next chapter has been posted, so there won't be a ton of suspense. But for those of you, well, not, then live on in suspense! Mwaha!
> 
> Anyways. No new pronunciations for this chapter, so the song is "Rescue Me" by Fontella Bass. 
> 
> Catch you guys next time!


	19. I Kill Giants

The arrow flew through the air as Ethan dropped the bow, unable to hold it anymore as the ice reached his chest. For a split second, it looked like the arrow was going to be cut off by Ymir’s club. But, the Fates must have been smiling down and guiding Ethan’s arrow true, because it slipped right past the club and pierced Ymir’s left eye with a small chink.

Ymir roared and thrashed in pain as the ice began to creep up Ethan’s neck. Ethan watched with dimming vision as the ice giant staggered around, screaming, until suddenly stopping and appearing to freeze up. And then, just before the ice covered Ethan’s eyes, Ymir, the unbreakable ice giant, shattered into millions of tiny ice shards. The shards flew across the room at dozens of different angles, bouncing off most of Ethan’s body but cutting him up quite a bit around his forehead.

The ice stopped its advancing, and for a few moments Ethan was stuck in a sort of limbo where he was near-fully frozen but still fully conscious. And then, Ethan began to notice how feeling was beginning to seep back into his body again, and he strained his eyes to look down. To his surprise and overwhelming relief, the ice covering his body—and the entire room—was beginning to melt. In a few moments, Ethan could almost completely feel his limbs again, and although his clothes were soaked through and through, he was finally able to relax.

Next to him, Ullr had also completely thawed, and although the hunter god was still unconscious, he was definitely breathing, so that was a good sign. Ethan looked over at the ice statues of Malina and Andrew, and was relieved to see that they, too, were melting, and seemed to be okay for the most part. 

Ethan took the time he was given to catch his breath and let the panic that had bubbled up inside of him melt away. Once he trusted himself to move again, he brushed the bow aside and tried to get to his feet. His legs were a bit wobbly, still recovering from being frozen, but for the most part Ethan could stand and walk.

He staggered his way over to Babi’s cell, where Andrew had hidden the baboon god during their fight with Ymir so as to keep Babi safe. His feet crunched the ice shards that had once been Ymir to tiny ice particles. It briefly crossed Ethan’s mind that since the ice Ymir had created had melted upon his death, the shards of his body probably should have, too. But Ethan derived an almost sick amount of pleasure from crushing the pieces of Ymir beneath his heel, so he didn’t worry too much about it.

Ethan reached the door and found that, while he could walk (sort of), his strength hadn’t fully returned to him yet, so it took him a few tries to open the door. With a sizeable grunt, Ethan finally managed to push the door open, and looked around to see that Babi was huddled up against the far wall, shivering and staring down at the floor. Ethan also noticed that the floor was soaking wet. At first, it didn’t quite click as to why, but then Ethan realized that Ymir’s frost breath had probably entered Babi’s room as well. The baboon god must have been horrified. Ethan gave him a quick once-over, though, and Babi seemed okay, except for the still vaguely-traumatized look he’d had on ever since Ethan and Andrew had found him.

“Is—is he—” Babi stuttered, his teeth chattering from the residual cold.

Ethan nodded. “Yeah. His new body isn’t gonna do him much good anymore.” He reached out his hand and helped Babi to his feet. He moved inwards to he could support Babi with his shoulder, but Babi waved him away.

“Thanks, but n—no thanks,” Babi said, staggering forward. “I—I need to stand on m—my own t—two feet. For a—a while.”

Ethan nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, dude, I get it. No worries.”

Babi slowly shuffled his way out of the room, with Ethan right behind him. When Ethan was finally able to step past Babi and make his way into the larger, outer room, he was relieved to see that Malina was already awake and seemed to be, for the most part, okay. She was rubbing her head, and her face was scrunched up in pain, but otherwise she seemed like she was fine.

“Ethan,” she said, standing up to greet him. The two shared a brief hug before she pulled away and asked, “What happened?”

“You got frozen by Ymir,” Ethan explained. “So did Andrew and Ullr. I almost did. But I killed him so everyone thawed out. We’re good.”

“You killed Ymir?”

“Try not to sound so surprised,” Ethan retorted with a small grin.

Malina managed a small laugh before squeezing Ethan’s hand and turning away to go tend to Andrew, who seemed to be just waking up. Ethan glanced behind him to see if Babi needed anything, but the baboon god was sitting down again, leaning up against the wall with his eyes closed. Ethan didn’t think he was asleep; just resting and trying to gather himself. It was perfectly understandable, so Ethan let the god be and walked over to see if he could get Ullr up and walking.

Ethan knelt down next to Ullr and pulled back the hood of his cloak to see if he was awake. His eyes were closed, so Ethan decided to shake Ullr a few times and say, “Ullr, come on, wake up.”

“I’m already awake, you dimwit,” Ullr grumbled, to Ethan’s surprise. “Just let me rest for a few more seconds, would you?”

“Oh,” Ethan said sheepishly, feeling his face heat up. “Sorry. It’s just that, we should probably go now. You know, before the rest of the giants come back.”

Ullr sighed. “What part of ‘give me a few seconds’ are you not able to process?”

Ethan smirked, and sat back. He counted to five. And then he said, “It’s been a few seconds. Time to get up, buddy.”

Ullr punched Ethan in the thigh. 

***

The climb up the stairs that led out of the room would have been long and hard enough in any normal situation. But with the countless injuries, and the fact that Ullr and Babi weren’t fully conscious yet, not only was the climb longer and harder, but it was painstakingly slow, too. Not to mention that Ethan was pretty sure his leg was bruising from where Ullr had punched him. 

When they were about halfway up the stairs, Ethan turned to Ullr. “Hey, Ullr. I’ve been thinking. I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you know to shoot Ymir in the eye?” Ethan asked. “I mean, he was supposed to be indestructible.”

“Nothing is indestructible,” Ullr corrected. “Everything has a weak spot. You just have to know where to find it.”

“Still, I never would have guessed that was his weak spot,” Ethan continued. “So how did you know?”

To Ethan’s surprise, Ullr just shrugged. “Never met a thing I couldn’t kill by shooting it in the eye. Figured it was worth a go.”

Ethan blinked, incredulous, unable to speak for a few moments out of surprise. “Wait—so—so you mean, you had no idea if that would work? Dude. Our lives were on the line, and you just—just made a guess?”

Ullr shrugged again. “Well, we’re alive, aren’t we?”

Ethan wasn’t sure what to say to that. So he stayed quiet, and the group continued on in silence for a while longer. Then Malina, who had been helping Andrew support Babi as they made the climb, spoke up: “You guys, we really need to hurry up. What if the giants get back before we’ve left?”

“Then we fight,” Ullr grumbled from where he was being supported by Ethan. 

“An entire horde of giants?” Malina asked, raising an eyebrow. “With two heavily injured people? Sounds pretty likely to get us all killed, Ullr.”

“And here I was thinking you were the only one here with a pair of balls, Mally,” Ullr scowled. “If we gotta fight, we gotta fight. Ain’t no running from a fight.”

“Don’t call me Mally,” Malina muttered.

“What if not running gets you killed?” Ethan asked.

“Then you die with some goddamn honor,” Ullr replied. “If the rest of you want to be cowards and run, then go ahead. But if I’m gonna die, then I’m gonna do it on my terms: going down kicking and screaming. I won’t get myself killed while running away like a coward.”

“But if you run, you have a chance at living,” Andrew reasoned.

“And if you fight, you have a chance at winning,” Ullr retorted. “Look, guy, it’s a matter of principle. You might have been born into a culture where it’s okay to run away, but we Norse know the value in staying and fighting. Who cares if you die? At least you went down swinging. That’s where the honor is.”

“Honor is useless if you’re dead,” Malina argued.

“Not to us,” Ullr growled. “So if you could maybe stop disrespecting my culture, Mally, that’d be great.”

Malina looked like she wanted to argue further, but she shut her mouth and just shook her head. Ethan could see that she still didn’t understand the concept of fighting and dying for honor. But, oddly enough, he kind of could. Ethan had experienced a lot in the past few months. He understood a thing or two about honor and embracing the death that sometimes came with it. Sometimes, resistance was futile. Sometimes you had to fight. And if you died…

Ethan shook his head, trying to shake these negative thoughts out of his head. They weren’t good to be thinking, not here, not ever. He had to stop thinking as though he was going to die. Sure, that threat was ever-present, what with every evil thing on the face of the earth wanting to kill him, it seemed. But if he adopted Ullr’s mentality, and just kept fighting, he wouldn’t. He had the power to win every fight. That wasn’t cockiness; that was truth. Ymir himself had said it; the potential for immense power was within Ethan. As long as he called on that power, and kept fighting, he would win any fight Tiamat or her cronies could throw at him. Ethan made the quick promise to himself that he wouldn’t die until he reached the final battle with Tiamat, where it was okay to finally die; so long as he brought her down with him.

After a few more minutes of Ethan psyching himself up for a fight that hopefully wouldn’t come for years, the group reached the top of the stairs and made their way into the hallway. Ethan suddenly realized that he didn’t know how to get back to place they’d all come into the stronghold. He looked over at Andrew, helpless, and was relieved to see the god nod and say, “Follow me, guys. I know where we’re going.”

Andrew guided Babi and Malina forward and around the corner and to the right. Ethan and Ullr followed them, and Ethan was suddenly aware of how heavy Ullr was now that Ullr wasn’t really moving anymore; the god had been using his legs to climb the stairs, but now he’d basically gone limp. Ethan had to struggle just to keep them both upright. 

The five of them continued slowly but surely down the long, twisting expanse of hallway. As Andrew led them around corners and past things Ethan hadn’t remembered seeing, he had to wonder if Andrew really knew where he was going. Those fears were soon assuaged, however, when Ethan realized that the hallway ended just up ahead, and led out into the grand staircase. The five of them subconsciously picked up the pace.

Going down the stairs was even harder than going up, because Ullr was leaning down, as he didn’t have the strength to stand upright, so gravity kept trying to pull Ullr down the stairs and to the solid marble floor. And Ullr was so heavy that Ethan was tempted to let it.

They were halfway down the steps when Babi suddenly came alive. Up until then, he had been conscious but silent, shuffling along with the rest of them with his head drooping. But suddenly, his head snapped back, his eyes wide and bloodshot as he began to breathe hard and fast, looking around in fear. “He’s—he’s—”

“What?” Malina asked, seeming both concerned and scared. “Babi, what’s wrong?”

“Ymir’s death—he felt it—he’s—he’s coming—”

“Babi, who’s coming?” Andrew asked, trying to shake some sense into the baboon god. But Babi seemed to be hysterical, breaking away from Andrew and Malina and stumbling down the steps. 

“He’s—he’s alone—but he’s strongest when he’s alone—” Babi muttered furiously to himself as he raced across the marble floor with a strength he hadn’t yet displayed. Ethan supposed it was the adrenaline fueling him. Malina and Andrew ran down the stairs and followed Babi, trying to get him to calm down, and Ethan and Ullr followed as fast as they could with Ullr still being slightly incapacitated. 

“Kid—kid, why are you going so fast?” Ullr asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Babi says someone’s coming,” Ethan replied. “That can’t mean anything good. Plus we should probably catch up to him, you know? I feel like that’d be a solid idea, seeing as how we all almost died to rescue him.”

“Yeah, Babi says someone’s coming, and I’d like to stick around to fight that someone,” Ullr grumbled.

It took Ethan a few moments to process what Ullr had said, but once he did, he understood exactly who was coming. “Ullr, no. You’re in no condition to be fighting Surtr. Now come on, we have to get out of here before he shows up.”

Ullr waved Ethan away. “Did my speech earlier about honor and glory not impact you, like, at all?” he growled. “Sure, I’ll go with you all. But if we’re still here when that ugly bastard shows his face, I’ll give him everything I’ve got.”

Ethan didn’t say anything; he just nodded gently and guided Ullr—albeit much faster now—down the hallway to where Malina and Andrew had finally caught up to Babi and were trying to calm him. They had to get Ullr out before Surtr arrived, Ethan told himself; he didn’t want the hunter god getting himself killed. Not after everything he’d done for them.

Once they caught up to the other three, Ethan could hear what they were saying. “—no reason to be afraid. All we need to do is walk a little bit further and we’re out,” Andrew was telling Babi, who appeared to be hyperventilating but rapidly calming. “Surtr can’t find us when we’re outside, Babi, I promise.”

“Actually, I could have. But if you’re inside, it makes things so much easier,” said a deep, gravelly voice from the other side of the room.

Suddenly, a ring of flames erupted around the five of them, making Ethan leap forward in fear of being burned. Babi started to hyperventilate again, looking around in fear, his eyes wide and his knees buckling. Ullr clenched his fists and tried to grip his hatchets, but the thundering footsteps of the approaching giant made him too imbalanced to do it.

Ethan looked up towards the enormous marble staircase that they’d just come down, and was a little less than thrilled to see the giant he knew was Surtr for the first time. 

For starters, Surtr was easily the maximum height for a giant, which he was pretty sure was fifteen feet tall. His body looked like that of a regular, muscular human’s, except just a lot taller. Thick, shaggy hair covered almost every inch of his chest, stomach, arms, head, feet, legs—well, just about everywhere but his face. Around his waist Surtr wore an enormous pigskin loincloth, with what looked like human skulls dangling off of it. Even parts of his hair were braided with what looked to Ethan like bones. In his hands he carried a gigantic double-bladed battle axe, which looked even more sharp and threatening to Ethan than, he felt, a regular double-bladed battle axe would. 

Surtr sauntered towards them, grinning maniacally at them as he casually controlled the flames around them simply by wiggling his fingers ever so slightly. In his other hand, he swung his battle axe in a way that really only served to make Ethan even more scared. 

“I hear Ymir is dead,” Surtr growled as his grin faded. “I felt the ripples of his death from the very top of the mountain, and rushed down here to see if I could catch his killers and make them pay for their crime.” He pointed the blades of the battle axe at them. “I am correct in assuming, I would think, that you all are the perpetrators?”

“Maybe so,” Ullr said, voice hard and eyes steely. “Not as though there’s much you can do now, eh, Surtr?”

Surtr looked down to see Ullr, and his face split back open into an evil grin. “So. The Glorious One has emerged from hiding. At long last, eh?”

“Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me,” Ullr taunted.

“Not necessarily, Glorious One,” Surtr taunted back. “We both know you still blame me for stealing the final kill on the boar so many years ago. I suppose that’s the only reason you offered to escort these fools across enemy lines; you hoped you’d get to finally achieve your retribution.”

“Wait, what?” Malina asked, incredulous. She grabbed Ullr’s shoulder and forced him around to face her. “A pig? You’re pissed at him and are willing to fight him to the death for a pig? Ullr, what the hell?”

“Its name was Saehrimnir and I’d been hunting it for months so the other gods could feast on it, okay?” Ullr snapped. “Until this bastard stole the kill right out from under me. The Asgardians never forgave me for that. Why do you think I live in Alfheim?”

“I don’t know how many more times I must insist to you that I am not the one who murdered the boar,” Surtr said with a casual shrug. “But the fact of the matter is, Ullr, you did slip up and drop the kill. Blame me if you like, but your female comrade is correct. It is not worth fighting and dying for an old, tired vendetta.” Surtr pointed the blade of his axe at Babi. “So I offer you this choice, Ullr. Leave me the baboon god, and reveal to me the one who killed Ymir and leave him too, and I will let the rest of you walk free.” He grinned again. “You have my humblest word.”

“How do you know it wasn’t me?” Ullr growled.

Surtr threw his head back and laughed, and the sound shook the room. “You and I both know you aren’t powerful enough to destroy Ymir. Only someone with far greater magical power than you could have the strength to kill Ymir, and only if they found his weak spot.” His smile quickly died, and changed into a grotesque sort of frown. “So don’t play games with me, Ullr. Tell me which of these three people with you killed Ymir, and then you and the other two may walk free.”

For a few moments, Ethan could see that Ullr was considering it. Ullr looked around the ring, with the heat still emanating off the flames, at each and every one of them: first Ethan, then Malina, then Babi, then Andrew. It was clear in the hardness of his jaw, the steeliness of his eyes, that he was genuinely considering selling Ethan out so he, Malina, and Andrew could go free. 

But then, to Ethan’s immense relief, Ullr turned back to Surtr and defiantly said, “No. These pansies might be just that, but we’ve already been through a whole lotta shit together. No way I’m selling them out that fast.” Ethan wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or insulted. “And besides,” Ullr continued, unclipping his hatchets from his belt. “It’s like you said. I’ve been itching to fight you. Even this weak, I could probably still kick your ass.”

Surtr laughed again, only this time it was a lot more condescending, which actually really made Ethan mad. “Very well then, Ullr. You choose to die with your comrades. I am unsure if the choice is noble, or just stupid.” He raised his axe. Ethan tensed, ready to jump out of the way. “Either way…no one will ever know of your sacrifice. Ullr the Glorious One will remain in obscurity. Forever.”

And with that final taunt, Surtr brought the axe down—straight towards Babi. Ethan couldn’t react fast enough, and he was too far away, as well. Fortunately, though, Malina’s reflexes were that of a cat’s, and she leapt towards the baboon god and shoved him out of the way, just in the nick of time. The blade of Surtr’s axe lodged itself in the floor, and it took a few tugs to pull it out. Ethan seized that time to call on the water particles in the air outside of the fire ring and pulled them towards him, creating about ten waves of water that rolled through the air and extinguished the flame ring that entrapped them. Ethan then redirected the water straight up at Surtr, who ripped his axe out of the ground and smacked the water aside. It splashed harmlessly on the ground, but it had served its purpose; everyone in the group was now scattered.

Malina guided Babi over to the far wall, and quickly cast a shield of light around the terrified baboon god in order to keep him safe. Then she looked up at Surtr, and caught Ethan’s eye briefly. The terror she felt was clear to him; here they were, battling to the death with the king of the fire giants. Sure, they had defeated Ymir, but all of them had almost died in the process. Maybe at full strength, they could have beaten Surtr easily. But they were weakened from the fight with Ymir. The odds weren’t in their favor.

Then he saw her face harden, and he understood what she meant. Sure, it was highly improbable that they would win this fight. But they owed it to Babi—and hell, the fate of the world—to at least try.

Ethan heard Ullr cry out in anger, and looked over to see the hunter god fling one of his hatchets upwards, aiming directly for Surtr’s eye. Surtr dodged the blade easily, and it flew upwards to the ceiling, bounced off with a ringing clang, and proceeded to fall back down to the ground and, because Surtr was no longer paying attention, leave a long and bloody cut on the side of his head.

Surtr roared in pain and rage, and swung his axe down at Ullr. Andrew sent a gust of wind to blow the hunter god out of the way, saving Ullr’s life as the blade came slamming down right where he’d been standing. Ethan took this opportunity by the horns and manipulated the earth around the blade to pull it into the ground. Surtr struggled to keep hold on the axe’s handle, but Ethan’s pull was too strong; pretty soon the axe was gone, swallowed up by the earth below.

Surtr turned on Ethan. “So, boy; you think that by ridding me of my physical weapon, you have bested me?” A maniacal grin split across his face as he threw his hand out, and the entire arm lit up in blue flame. “You forget, I would think, that I am the king of the fire giants. Ymir’s power lied in ice; a weak element. Mine lies in fire, nature’s ultimate destroyer.”

Surtr took a deep breath, and blew out columns of flame straight at Ethan. Ethan yelped in fear and used the air around him to propel himself into the air and away from the fire as Malina charged Surtr from the side, sending up a few bolts of light to distract the giant. Surtr turned towards her and disinterestedly sent out a few flames from his fingers before turning to Ethan again. Malina stumbled backwards, almost getting her feet burned by the fire.

Ethan flew through the air as Surtr continued to blow fire at him, and once Ethan began to feel dizzy from all the flying, he couldn’t keep up the evasive maneuvers much longer. So he shouted out, “Andrew!” as he let himself fall, sending about ten massive jets of water straight at Surtr’s face. As the water collided and blinded the fire giant, causing him to stumble back, Andrew picked up on Ethan’s hint and created a cushion of air for Ethan to land on. 

Ullr rushed the blinded Surtr with his remaining hatchet and, screaming, launched himself up and onto Surtr’s bony and protruding knee. “This is for the boar, you lying bastard!” Ullr roared as he swung the hatchet and stuck the blade deep into Surtr’s flesh. Surtr screamed in pain, and bucked his knee to fling Ullr off. Ullr went flying, and although Andrew managed to save Ullr’s life by creating another air cushion, the hunter god was still knocked unconscious and was down for the count.

As Surtr was still shaking the water out of his eyes while simultaneously trying to rip the hatchet out of his leg, Ethan, Malina, and Andrew charged him as one. Andrew took out the staff that Hecate had given him and launched himself into the air, whipping around on the air currents as he beat Surtr over the head with the staff. Malina continued firing bolts of light at random places across Surtr’s body. And Ethan was raising the earth beneath Surtr’s feet, trying to make the fire giant lose his balance. But then—

“Enough!” Surtr suddenly shouted, and before any of them even had time to react, white-hot tongues of flame blasted from every pore of Surtr’s body. Andrew, who was the closest, took the brunt of the blast, falling from the air, probably badly burned and definitely unconscious. Ethan cried out and created a makeshift cushion of air to try and save the sky god, but his emotions were running to fast and too high, so it wasn’t as good as Andrew’s had been; he still landed on the ground pretty hard.

Surtr kicked at the small pillar of stone Ethan had created beneath the giant’s right foot, and the pillar shattered. The pieces flew everywhere at a million miles an hour, and although Ethan managed to protect himself with a quick earth shield, Malina was not so lucky; her light shield was quickly penetrated by the stone and she cried out in severe pain as she was knocked to the ground by the barrage. 

“Malina!” Ethan cried, risking himself to rush out to her side. She was cut up badly from the sharp rocks, and barely conscious. The faint glow of her skin told Ethan that she was attempting to heal herself, but she just wasn’t a good enough healer.

“Malina, holy shit, are you okay?” Ethan asked, his voice cracking a bit. “Please be okay. I really need you to be okay.” 

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she tried to choke something out. “E—E—behi—”

Ethan got the message far too late: behind you. He suddenly felt something large and heavy slam into his side, and he flew across the room, battered and dazed but fortunately not enough to prevent him from being able to catch himself with a well-timed cushion of air. He landed gently on the ground right next to Babi. Ethan weakly managed to look up to see that Surtr had punched him away from Malina, and that the fire giant was now picking Malina up in his meaty hands. 

Surtr raised the limp Malina up to his eye level and turned her over a few times before smiling. “Ah, yes. Quite the woman, aren’t you?” He glanced over at Ethan, just to make sure he was watching, and, to Ethan’s horror and disgust, began to rip Malina’s shirt off. “After I kill the rest of your puny little friends, I think I’ll make you my pretty new painted whore.”

Ethan looked up and caught Malina’s eye, and even though she was just barely clinging to consciousness, he watched as a few tears fell down her cheek and dropped towards the floor below. 

Something inside Ethan snapped. Andrew was most likely dead, or near death, as well as Ullr. Babi had been tortured and traumatized by this vicious giant. And now he was taking Malina as his own personal sex slave. Ethan was not about to let Surtr get away with all the vile, awful things he had done and was planning to do. Ethan was ready and willing to kill. And he would win, or he would die trying.

As he stood up, he heard a small voice next to him say in a shaky whisper: “T—take my h—hand.” He looked over to see Babi stretching his arm through the light shield Malina had provided for him, his hand reaching towards Ethan. Ethan complied, and clasped his hand in Babi’s. 

Suddenly, Ethan was filled with a power he had never before known. Sheer, unadulterated magical energy surged through his entire being, all flowing from Babi into him. The power bubbled up inside of Ethan faster than he could handle, and he let loose a violent war cry as he unleashed the power in a raging wave of the elements.

Air, water, earth, and fire entwined and encircled each other as they shot forth from Ethan’s being and headed straight for Surtr. All the fire giant had time to do was turn towards the incoming onslaught and utter a dumb, “Huh?”

The blast collided with Surtr’s head and its sheer force drove it straight through his skull. By the time the blast finally hit the opposite wall and dissipated, Ethan could see a nice, clean hole smack in the center of Surtr’s forehead. The fire giant dropped to his knees, already dead, as Malina fell from his limp hands. 

Creating and firing that blast had drained Ethan of a lot of his energy, even though he’d been feeding off of Babi’s. The last thing he was able to do was create a cushion of air so Malina wouldn’t get too hurt from hitting the ground. Then, just as Surtr crashed to the ground with a sizeable thud, so too did Ethan collapse as he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that takes care of Surtr, too. And now that Ymir and Surtr are down for the count, and Babi is rescued, where will the Super Friends™ go next on their journey? Ah, but dear reader...you're assuming their time in Alfheim is finished...it almost is, but not quite yet...we've still got a few chapters to go in Alfheim, because you don't battle two powerful giants and just walk away unscathed. The next few chapters will mostly be filler, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skim, because there's a whole lot of important info coming up. I encourage you to read them anyway, though. 
> 
> There shouldn't be any more pronunciations for this chapter, so the song is "I Kill Giants" by The Naked and Famous (LOVE this song. Highly recommend it!)
> 
> Well, that's it from me for now. Catch you guys next time!


	20. Giving My Life Away

To put it simply? Andrew was feeling pretty useless. 

In the fight with Ymir, he’d been taken out almost instantly when the ice giant had frozen him. And then, in the fight with Surtr, he’d been taken out again when Surtr had suddenly exploded into flame. He’d been knocked unconscious almost immediately after. Fortunately, he hadn’t been badly burned; the fire had consumed all the air around him and subsequently burned itself out, leaving him relatively untouched by it. But he had still left Malina to nearly get killed and Ethan to have to fend for himself against the monster that was Surtr. 

Ethan…try as he could, Andrew just couldn’t stop thinking about how, in both fights, it had all come down to Ethan to either save them all or get them all killed. That was a lot of pressure to put on a mortal who had only recently come into his magical abilities, and all the magical energy that Ethan had burned up had nearly drained his life force. Or so he was told. Andrew hated to think about that. He hated to think about how Ethan was constantly in danger, because he wasn’t good enough to protect him and keep him safe. 

Andrew remembered how, after Babi had frantically woken him up, Andrew had taken the unconscious Ethan in his arms and carried him down the mountain and back to King Dain’s stronghold. Malina and Ullr, once they had been woken up, had been gently guided down the mountain by Babi, who was worse for wear mentally but physically was feeling well enough to walk on his own again. 

The elves had at first rejoiced upon seeing the five of them stagger up to the door, but once everyone got a good look at the shitty state they were in, the elven medics had jumped into action. Malina, Ullr, Babi, and Ethan were taken to the upstairs floor of Dain’s house, for urgent medical attention and much-needed rest. Andrew had been taken to the medic tent to inspect his wounds, which were, compared to everyone else’s, nothing to complain about. Still, that hadn’t stopped the elves from keeping him in there for an entire day. 

By late afternoon on the day after their battles with the giants, Andrew was being given his final inspections by the head medic, an elf named Dofri. Once Dofri was finished, he said to Andrew: “You should count yourself lucky, sky god, that you were not injured as badly as your friends have been.”

“Will they be okay?” Andrew asked. He propped himself up on the bed he was laying on as Dofri sat down in the bedside chair. 

To Andrew’s growing fear, Dofri shrugged. “I know not, sky god. The one you call Malina has been badly torn and beaten; at the very least, it will take close to a week before she is healthy enough to leave. The Glorious One is also sorely wounded, and the baboon god has been horrifically tortured and traumatized at the hands of the giants. He will not recover from that easily.”

“But what about the mortal?” Andrew asked, a note of desperation in his voice. “Ethan, I mean. His name is Ethan.”

Dofri arched an eyebrow. “Ah, so the mortal is the one for whom you care the most, it would seem.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andrew asked, feeling his cheeks get hot as he unwillingly blushed.

Dofri shook his head. “I make no assumptions, sky god. But, since you have asked, the mortal’s wounds lie in the realm of the spiritual. As you have previously been informed, he consumed so much of his magical energy that part of his life force was also consumed to feed whatever power he chose to unleash. The baboon god’s magical energy is completely drained, which tells me, at least, that whatever the mortal did up there was so powerful that it consumed both his and the baboon’s energies combined, and that was still not enough.” Dofri arched another eyebrow as Andrew sat up and swung his legs off of the side of the bed. “And you are sure that you do not know what transpired?”

Andrew shook his head. “No, I—I was unconscious,” he said sheepishly. “All I know is that I woke up and there was a hole in Surtr’s head. I have no idea what happened to put it there.”

Dofri shrugged and stood up. “Very well.” 

He started to make his way out of the tent, and Andrew reached a hand out and said, maybe a bit too forcefully, “Wait.” 

Dofri stopped and turned. “Yes? What is it?”

“You—you didn’t tell me how he is,” Andrew said, trying to avoid the elf’s knowing gaze as Dofri yet again arched an eyebrow.

Andrew was surprised to hear Dofri chuckle. “As I said, sky god, I make no assumptions. You are free to inquire about this mortal you care for so much as it may please you.” Andrew wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. “But in any case, as I have told you, part of his life force has been consumed. We are working on remedying that, but it is a difficult and unpredictable process.” His smile was gone now, replaced by one of the best poker faces Andrew had ever seen. “I’m afraid your mortal… _friend_ currently lies in a deep coma. When he will emerge, I cannot say. If he ever does.” He turned away, and as he walked away and out of the tent, he said, “I apologize. I understand this news may be difficult to process. When you are ready, you may come see him in Dain’s home.”

Andrew was so stunned he didn’t even react to Dofri’s strong insinuation. A coma…may never wake up? Andrew suddenly felt numb all over, and try as he might, he couldn’t quite bring himself to move. His breathing became shallow and hard, and all he could think of was how he should have been there. He wasn’t there to protect Ethan, and now Ethan was in possibly the most danger he’d ever been. Not to mention the fate of the world. But it was odd—Andrew found he cared far less about the latter.

It took him a long while, but eventually Andrew found the strength to move. He stood up on shaky, jellified legs, and slowly made his way out of the dark tent and into the bright sunlight of the outside. He held up a hand to shield his eyes from the light, and looked around the camp to see how far away he was from Dain’s house. Once he spotted the towering roof of the three-story building, he staggered towards it with stilted and uneven steps, earning him some strange looks from passing elves. But Andrew didn’t care. He needed to see Ethan.

The elf guard standing outside the door to Dain’s house—Andrew felt his presence was extremely unnecessary—glared at Andrew for a few moments before he recognized the sky god. The guard stepped aside, and Andrew rushed inside. 

The moment he burst through the door and pretty much slammed it shut just as he entered, Andrew saw that Dain was standing at the stove. A pot sat above the open flame, and steam gently floated up from the pot as the water inside it boiled. Dain looked up at Andrew as he entered, and smiled. 

“Anshar,” Dain said warmly. “I’d say come in, but it seems you already have,” he added with a laugh.

“S—sorry,” Andrew stuttered. “Should I have knocked?”

Dain laughed again. “No, no, there’s no need. You’re here to see your friends, I presume?” 

Andrew nodded. “Are they upstairs?”

Dain nodded in return. “Babi is still asleep and resting, and Ethan Locke—well, I’m sure you know of his condition.” He glanced over at Andrew sympathetically. “I apologize, Anshar. It is never easy to discover that a close friend is trapped in such a state.” He picked up the pot and slowly turned it over to pour the water in the sink, and two soaked towels fell out as the water did. “The sun goddess, however, is awake, but needs a lot more rest before she’s able to be out and about again.” Dain picked up both towels one by one and wrung out the excess water as he continued. “And Ullr, I believe, is preparing himself to leave.”

“Leave?” Andrew asked, a bit caught off-guard by that. “What do you mean? He can’t leave yet.”

“On the contrary, Anshar,” Dain replied, turning away from the sink with the towels in his hands and starting for the stairs. “I have nothing to keep him here, nor do I have a reason to. He feels well enough to be on his way, so who am I to block his path?” Andrew followed Dain as he started to walk upstairs. “Unfortunately, on the third floor we only have two rooms, and Babi and Ethan Locke are occupying one whilst Malina and Ullr occupy the other. I’d suggest you say goodbye to Ullr and talk with Malina before you go to visit your mortal friend.”

Andrew nodded. “Y—yeah, that was my plan.”

Dain turned and smiled at Andrew. “And what a good plan it is.” 

They continued up the rest of the stairs in silence, until they reached the third floor, which was nothing more than a hallway with a bedroom at each end, and a bathroom right across from where the stairwell ended. Dain turned to Andrew briefly and said, “Well, I must be getting these to our unconscious friends. We’d rather not have them catching any sort of fever before they wake up.” And then, with that, Dain was gone, disappearing into the bedroom to the left and closing the door.

Andrew looked at the closed door for a few moments, trying to decide if he should just go straight ahead and see Ethan, but then he decided that Dain was probably right. So he turned and entered the right bedroom, signaling his presence with a quiet knock on the doorframe. “Hi.”

There were two beds positioned in the relative center of the room. Malina was sitting up in the one on the left, reading a book that Dain had probably given her. She looked up when she heard him knock and waved. Ullr was standing over the second bed, folding clothes and supplies into a small knapsack. He looked up and just gave Andrew a small grunt of greeting before going back to work.

“So I hear you’re leaving,” Andrew said to him, walking over. “So soon?”

Ullr shrugged. “I’m not one for being cooped up. The open wilderness is my home, and I wanna go back.” He narrowed his eyes at the supplies he was packing up. “Told the elves I didn’t need any of this shit, but gods forbid Dain ever take no for an answer.” Malina snickered from her bed.

“Well, what I meant was, you don’t necessarily have to go back to the isolated wild or whatever,” Andrew continued. “Not right now, anyway.”

“Yeah?” Ullr said, disinterestedly, as he began to close up the knapsack. “And where would I go, sky god?”

“Well, y—you could come with us,” Andrew stuttered, suddenly feeling his cheeks get hot. “I mean, only if you want to. You really did well back on the mountain. We could use you on the team, if you’re willing.”

Andrew felt slightly insulted when Ullr barked out a curt laugh. “Yeah, and do what, travel with the three of you across space and time or some shit like that, in an earth-shattering fight between good and evil?” He slung the knapsack over his shoulder and stood up straight, looking Andrew straight in the eye. “Thanks, but no thanks. Here in Alfheim, I have myself, I have my bow, and I have my prey. That’s all I really need. No stupid ‘sense of self-accomplishment’ needed.” 

He began to head for the door, clapping Andrew on the shoulder. “And anyway, I still gotta hunt that hawk that attacked the kid. Been tracking it for months now; can’t let it get away so easy.” Ullr shot Andrew a small smile before finally leaving the room, saying as he left: “Been nice knowing you guys. Maybe we’ll meet again, maybe we won’t.”

Andrew watched as Ullr retreated from the room, and waited until his footsteps going down the stairs had faded away before turning to Malina and saying, “Well, that was a bit rude.”

“What? Just because he doesn’t wanna spend all his time with you?” Malina said with a smirk as Andrew sat down on what had been Ullr’s bed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on!” Malina exclaimed with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “‘Oh, Ullr, you could come with us if you want. So, you know, I can keep looking at you,’” she said in a bad impression of him. “You totally like him.”

Andrew’s cheeks got hot again. “I do not.”

“At the very least you think he’s hot.”

“Okay, so maybe I do,” Andrew said, suddenly unable to meet Malina’s gaze. “What’s the big deal? You probably do, too.”

Malina laughed. “He isn’t exactly hard on the eyes, I’ll give you that.”

“Oh, just shut up, would you?” Andrew said with a wave of his hand. “How are you doing, anyway? Dain said you’d need a lot of rest, and the medic Dofri said it might take close to a week.”

“Pfft,” Malina scoffed. “A week, my ass. Light magic is a natural healing magic, even if I’m no good at it. It’s doing its thing naturally inside me as we speak. Dofri’s being overdramatic; I give myself two, three days, tops.”

Andrew whistled appreciatively. “Wow. Blatantly disregarding a doctor’s professional diagnosis. That’s a new one from you.”

Malina glared at him. “He’s no professional. He’s an elven medic. Honestly, it’s like he’s straight out of a D&D game.”

Andrew laughed, and for a moment they were quiet. Then, Malina said: “So, have you visited Ethan yet?”

Andrew shook his head. “I was going to, after I was done in here. Have you heard anything about how he is?”

She nodded solemnly. “Yeah. He’s in a coma, isn’t he?” Andrew nodded back, and she sighed and leaned back against the bed’s headboard. “Damn. Do they know when he’s gonna wake up?”

“Dofri told me part of his life force was drained by whatever he did to kill Surtr, so it’s a deep, deep coma,” Andrew replied. “Hey, you were awake, weren’t you? Or at least, kind of. Did you see what he did?”

Malina shrugged. “Only kind of. I was pretty out of it. All I remember is seeing some huge blast of whatever come out of nowhere and pierce Surtr’s skull. Dude was dead before he hit the ground.” She looked down, almost as if she felt guilty, and added, “And then he used up even more of his energy to create an air cushion for me to land on, so I wouldn’t get any more hurt.”

Andrew could see where she was going with that. “No. No, you can’t blame yourself. Whatever he did, that probably had already burned into his life force. This would have happened either way.”

“I know, but—but it’s just hard to shake, you know?” Malina answered. “Like maybe if I’d done something different, not been as hurt as I was so he wouldn’t have had to make that cushion, things would look better for him.” She silently stared down at her lap for a few moments before adding: “Dain told me he might never wake up.”

“He will,” Andrew shot back with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. “He’s so strong, one of the strongest mortals I’ve ever seen. If anyone can beat these odds, it’s Ethan Locke. I know he can.”

Malina kept her head hung down, and her shoulders started to gently shake. Andrew guessed she was crying. He was about to reach out and comfort her when she brought her head back up, and he saw the smile on her face. He leaned back in surprise as he realized she wasn’t crying, but that she was laughing. “Man, you’ve got it so bad.”

Andrew blinked. “What? W—what do you mean?”

“Andrew, come on,” Malina said, looking up at him. “Remember when you had that crush on me, like, a few hundred years ago? When we first met at Rangiroa? You pined after me so hard, but it was never this hard. You’ve got it bad for this kid.”

“You—you knew about that?”

Malina rolled her eyes. “Please. Every morning you had some sort of breakfast, like eggs or a toasted bagel, waiting for me, sitting on my desk and freshly made. You literally memorized my schedule so you could plan your walking through the halls so you’d collide with me.” She grinned. “It was almost stalker-ish, but I never said anything because the breakfasts were so good.”

“Would have been nice to know at least that,” Andrew said quietly. “I was always worrying whether you liked them or not.”

Malina laughed. “Listen, I know you’re crushing on him. Hard. You wanna go see him. I won’t keep you here. Go.”

Andrew blinked again. “Are—are you sure? Because, really, I could—”

“Go,” she insisted, picking the book up off her lap. “This book is really good, anyway, and you interrupted a super-steamy scene.”

Andrew laughed. “What book is that?”

She shrugged. “Some elven thing called ‘Romance Is The Longest Day, and Separation the Longest Night.’ Didn’t think I’d like it at first—the plot seemed too cliché and romance-y—but it turns out the Light Elves are known for their raunchy literature.”

Andrew laughed again. “Alright. Have fun with your sex book.”

“You know I will,” she replied, settling into a comfortable position. 

Andrew got up from off the bed and turned to walk out the door. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at her. “Thanks.”

“Go.”

Andrew chuckled to himself and left the room, gently shutting the door so Malina wouldn’t be disturbed. Then he turned and faced the closed door at the end of the hallway, and took a deep breath. It took him a few moments to work up the nerve, but eventually he managed to get his legs moving. He approached the door, took another deep breath, and knocked. 

A few moments passed by with nothing happening. Andrew began to feel like he should just leave. But then, he heard Dain call from inside, “You may enter.”

Andrew gently pushed open the door, and somewhat began to wish that he hadn’t. The room had a depressing feeling about it, and it was dimly lit and pretty cold. The layout was very similar to that of Malina’s room. Dain sat alone in a chair positioned in between the two beds, his back to Andrew. Babi was in the bed closest to Andrew, his eyes shut and his chest gently rising and falling. For all intents and purposes, he looked healthy, but Andrew remembered how Dofri had told him that Babi’s wounds were mostly mental. Andrew supposed the baboon god just needed his rest.

Dain looked up upon hearing Andrew enter. “Oh, Anshar,” he said, a touch of surprise in his voice. “I thought you were visiting with Malina and Ullr?”

“Ullr left, and Malina sent me in here,” Andrew replied. He took a tentative step forward. “Is—is it alright?”

Dain arched an eyebrow, as if confused, but then nodded. “Yes. Of course. There’s a chair on the other side, if you’d like to sit down.” His tone suddenly became grim. “I’m afraid you may need to.”

Andrew gulped. That didn’t bode well. 

He mentally prepared himself as he slowly walked around Babi’s bed and Ethan’s bed came into view, but of course, as with most things, it just wasn’t enough to prepare him for what he ended up laying eyes on. 

Ethan, lying limp and motionless in his bed, pale as pale could be and with open, lifeless eyes. Andrew had to stifle an audible gasp. It looked like he was—

“He is not dead, Anshar,” Dain said quietly. “I know that is what you must think, but this is only a death-like state which is generally brought upon those who lose part of, but not all of, their life forces.” He bowed his head and sighed as Andrew staggered on wobbling legs over to the chair, and collapsed into it. “Coma isn’t the right word, I know, but what else were we to tell you? That he may never live again?”

“What—what do you mean?” Andrew asked, choking on the question as it left his mouth. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Ethan’s. He just couldn’t get over how much it looked like Ethan Locke was—was—

“Life forces are not so easily replaced,” Dain explained, “and Ethan Locke used up much of his. If it were lesser damage, perhaps the combined light magic of all of our medics could muster up enough of a soul-like replacement to give him life again, but—well, it would seem as though not even we have the power needed to do this.” Dain looked up at Andrew, but Andrew refused to look at him. “He is fading more and more by the hour. By sunrise tomorrow he will be gone. I’m sorry.”

Dain reached over to touch Andrew’s hand in a gesture of comfort, but Andrew yanked his away. He felt hot tears well up in his eyes and blur the image of Ethan in front of him. How was this fair? How was any of this fair? It should have been Andrew in this position, not Ethan. Ethan was innocent. Andrew was the one with scores of blood on his hands from over the years. Ethan didn’t deserve this; nobody special like him did. It should have been Andrew. Andrew had lived for thousands upon thousands of years. Ethan was only twenty-two.

How on earth was this fair?

“If it should be of any consolation to you,” Dain said, solemnly standing up, “he is likely at peace. I am unable to look into his mind, but I would guess that to him, he is simply asleep and dreaming. He will go quietly, and will not suffer.” 

Dain glanced down at Ethan one last time, and then back to Andrew, who still wasn’t looking at the elven king. “I’ll let you have the time you need. Stay up here as long as you may like.”

Andrew was so wrapped up in his thoughts and his anger and sorrow at this hopelessly unfair situation, that he barely even heard Dain leave. But, once he realized that the elven king was gone, Andrew looked up and around the empty room, in a desperate attempt to look at anywhere but Ethan. He didn’t want to see Ethan this way. Maybe—maybe he should just leave. Maybe this would be just too painful.

But then Andrew’s eyes fell on the sleeping form of Babi, and the anger flared again. How come the baboon god got to go through all that torment, all that mental trauma, and even drain himself of all his magical energy while in an incredibly weakened state, and still live, while Ethan, as healthy as could be, cast one little spell and died for it? It just wasn’t fair. Damn the fact that Babi had tried to help Ethan live, it just wasn’t—

And then, suddenly, it hit him. A memory popped into Andrew’s mind: a memory of a spell that Ichpochtli, the Aztec goddess of magic, had taught him several hundred millennia ago. A spell so ancient that only those who still held the primordial power of the world’s beginning could perform. Ichpochtli herself had told Andrew that since he was part of the third generation of the entire godly family tree, he held such power. Maybe…just maybe…

Andrew would need supplies. But he didn’t want to leave the room and get everyone all riled up, just in case the spell didn’t work. So he closed his eyes, and let his mind wander throughout the worlds, in search of the supplies he needed. Once he’d located them all, he pulled them through space to right in front of him. In a small flash of grey, the four things he needed sat in front of him: hemlock leaves, asphodel, a crocodile heart, and—perhaps the most disgusting of them all—a jar of virgin’s blood.

Andrew ground up the hemlock and the asphodel with his hands and sprinkled them into the blood. Then he summoned a knife from the downstairs kitchen—he hoped nobody saw it leave—and cut out all the arteries from the heart, ground those up, and put them in the blood. Then Andrew used his right index finger to stir it three times counter-clockwise, before gulping, taking a deep breath, and downing the entire jar while resisting the near-overwhelming urge to gag.

Once it was all in his system, Andrew suddenly felt its power: his hands began to glow with a faint yellow-green light, and he felt as though his gut was going to burst. The potion that Ichpochtli had taught him how to make was supposed to have the desired effect of creating additional life force within the person who drank it. But generally, those who were in need of such a potion were in no state to be drinking one, much like Ethan. So the extra life force had to be drunken by a second person, and then transferred into the first. Thinking about how Babi had transferred his magic energy into Ethan had reminded Andrew of the potion, but it had also reminded him of what a low success rate this potion had; if the person was too far gone, the life force wouldn’t activate within them, and would therefore go back into the drinker of the potion. And too much life force in one person…the results were never pretty.

Andrew picked up Ethan’s limp arm and felt his wrist for a pulse. There was no pulse, of course, which meant there was a fifty-fifty chance Ethan wasn’t too far gone for Andrew’s spell to work. But it didn’t matter; Andrew had come this far already, so he had no choice but to try. And even if there was no fatal consequence for the spell not working, Andrew would have tried anyway for as many times as it took to work. He would have ventured into Hell to retrieve Ethan’s soul if he’d had to.

Closing his eyes, Andrew concentrated the extra life force into his fingers and, little by little, carefully directed it into Ethan’s body. It began to flow smoothly into Ethan’s veins, which was a good sign; but Andrew wouldn’t know fully if it worked until it got to Ethan’s heart.

“Where one’s magic fails, another’s excels,” Andrew said quietly as he worked the life force into Ethan. “Remember when I told you that? The Light Elves failed. I’ll excel.” A few more angry tears began to well up in his eyes, that he had to quickly blink away so as to keep his concentration. “You’re not dying on me, Ethan Locke.”

Andrew felt the life force slowly extending its way towards Ethan’s heart. His breathing quickened. This was it—make or break time. Once it hit Ethan’s heart, it would either work and save Ethan, or fail and kill Andrew. At this point Andrew was willing to accept either.

The life force’s tendrils crept over Ethan’s heart and surrounded it. Andrew’s own heart stopped. And that wasn’t an expression; his heart actually stopped. This was part of the process; life begets death, or death begets life.

A few seconds that felt like hours passed by. And then—Andrew’s heart began to beat again. And so did Ethan’s. 

Andrew leaned back in an immense sigh of relief as Ethan’s pale body began to glow with the light of the new life force as it settled into him, restoring color to his skin again. His chest began to rise and fall as he started to breathe; Andrew hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t. An odd feeling of giddiness rippled through Andrew. He’d done it. He’d saved Ethan. Everything was going to be okay.

But now, thanks to the immense power and energy the spell required, Andrew was left feeling tired and sick. So he stood up and slowly made his way to the door. Ethan would wake up soon, and Andrew was still a bit of a mess. He didn’t want Ethan to see him like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so useless after all, huh, Andrew? Saved Ethan from the brink of death. A filler chapter, mostly, but I guess the whole "saving Ethan" thing is kinda important. But anyway. I don't have a whole lot to say about this chapter, so...moving on.
> 
> Pronunciation for this chapter:  
> Dofri = DAWF-ree
> 
> The song is "Giving My Life Away" by Damaris Carbaugh. 
> 
> Catch you guys next time!


	21. Back On Your Feet Again

Ethan didn’t have trouble believing it when he was told he’d almost died. 

According to Dain, the blast of elemental energy he’d shot through Surtr’s skull had not only drained him of all his magical energy (and Babi’s), but also a fraction of his life force. His prospects had looked grim. But then, through some miracle (Malina later claimed it was more likely the work of some unknown, friendly god), he’d made a startling recovery. 

Something that was beginning to become clear to Ethan was that this quest was nothing but dangerous for him. He’d almost died to every trial they’d faced so far, and only in about a three-month span. And they weren’t even close to finding the first ring. To be quite honest? Ethan wasn’t wild about his prospects for the rest of the quest.

What made the almost-dying even worse was that Ethan remembered it—but not in a good way. He remembered passing out after killing Surtr. He remembered suddenly waking up in a bed in Dain’s house two days later (or so he was told). But in between…all he remembered was blackness. An overwhelming darkness slowly swallowing him, and him being conscious enough to experience it minute by minute, hour by hour. It had been, quite frankly, an absolutely terrifying experience. When the darkness had finally been pierced by a light, and then done away with altogether a few moments later by his eyes finally opening up, Ethan had nearly cried from happiness. The darkness had been reminiscent of his time in the Underworld, and had made him feel just as helpless and afraid as he had then.

But nobody except Ethan knew about it. And nobody except Ethan would ever know about it.

For a full day after he woke up, medic elves, headed by an elf named Dofri, were rushing in and out of his room; some bringing supplies, some bringing food, and others simply bringing words of encouragement. Ethan needed it all. He felt like he should be used to almost dying, but he was still pretty shaken at being informed about his near-death—and in excruciating detail, too, thanks to Dofri’s tactless manner of speaking. But as comforting as all the attention from the elves was, all he really needed was to see Malina and Andrew again.

Andrew was apparently not allowed in to see him until Ethan had been properly and fully cared for, and Malina was apparently not well enough to leave her bed just yet. And Ullr had apparently left, having disappeared back into the wilderness. Ethan was informed by Dofri that once Ethan was cleared to go, Andrew could take him to see Malina. “But for the time being,” the elven medic said with a smile, “you have the opportunity to make a new friend in me.”

Ethan didn’t want a new friend in Dofri, though. Although Ethan was sure Dofri was a great guy once you got to know him, all Ethan wanted was to relish in the familiarity and comfort of his old friends. 

Once night finally fell, Ethan was given reprieve from the constant presence of all the elves. He fell into a dreamless sleep, one horrifically reminiscent of the supposed “coma” he’d been in the past two days. 

At some point during the night, he finally awoke from this stupor, and found that as tired as he was, he was too afraid to go back to sleep. So he stayed awake, sitting up in his bed in the pitch-black darkness, and staring at a random spot on the wall. His tired mind moved sluggishly, thinking about the clear and ever-present danger in his life, thinking about his life as of late in general, and thinking about what was coming next. Ethan looked over at the sleeping form of Babi, a silhouette that he could just barely make out against the monochromatic darkness. Ethan knew that once the baboon god awoke, he could finally give them Thoth’s location, and they could use Thoth to translate the Enigmatic Lexicon, and then they could finally locate the first ring. Contrary to what he’d thought earlier, now that he really thought about it, the first leg of the quest seemed to be drawing to an end. But, since there were seven rings, there was still much to come. 

Ethan thought about everything they had gone through just to complete what should have been a simple portion of the overall journey. And he wondered if the rest of the journey would be even worse. Ethan supposed it had to be. 

His eyes slowly drifted down to the floorboards—or what he could barely see of them, anyway. Ethan suddenly found himself filled with an overwhelming desire to get out of the bed. From what Dofri had told him, Ethan wasn’t ready to walk yet. But somehow Ethan knew that he’d be able to.

As if they had a mind of their own, Ethan’s legs swung themselves out from under the blanket and over the side of the bed. Slowly but surely, Ethan lowered his feet until his toes touched the night-chilled floor. He carefully stood up, his legs wobbling and unsteady at first, but as he stood there and willed himself to adjust, a small smile came to his face as he balanced out and started walking.

Ethan would have thought the door would be locked, but as he stepped past Babi’s bed quietly and reached for the door’s handle, it silently swung open as he pulled it. Ethan slipped through the doorway, and gently shut it so as to make as little noise as possible. He turned away from the bedroom, and carefully made his way down the stairs until he hit the ground floor. 

He noticed a sleeping figure on the couch, illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering in from the windows. Ethan crept closer, and saw that it was Dain. Not wanting to wake the elven king up and get himself caught, Ethan silently tiptoed his way over to the front door and pulled it open.

A great creaking suddenly rang throughout the room as the door hinges apparently wanted Ethan to get caught. He tensed and froze, waiting for the inevitable angry cry from Dain. But nothing came. Ethan risked turning around, letting himself relax because it seemed Dain was still asleep. 

Dain’s head was gently propped up, his eyes were wide open, and he was facing Ethan with an intensity that made Ethan jump, startled. He was about to start vehemently apologizing when he noticed that Dain, while clearly awake, didn’t seem to be upset. In fact, he gently nodded in Ethan’s direction. Ethan realized that Dain knew Ethan needed to just get out and get away for a few moments, and understood and respected that need. In that moment Ethan was more grateful to Dain than he’d ever been to anyone else before.

Ethan nodded back his thanks, and quickly darted out through the door and outside. Once his bare feet hit the porch, the brisk chill of the night air hit him full force, but somehow he wasn’t cold. It was nowhere near what he still remembered feeling from Ymir’s ice. Maybe now that he’d known true cold, petty things like the night air no longer bothered him.

Gently stepping down off of the porch and onto the uneven ground, Ethan took his first deep breath of fresh air that he had in days. It was almost cleansing, in a way; suddenly, now that he was outside and standing barefoot in the mulch-grass mix of the ground, and staring up at the full moon that towered above him, he felt freer than he ever had before. Maybe it had something to do with the near-death experiences he’d had to last a lifetime, all accumulated over the course of three months. Maybe that had subconsciously given him a new, reverent appreciation for life. 

Ethan wandered through the empty encampment, looking around and taking in the familiar sights with new eyes. He passed by Dofri’s medic tent. He passed by what he was told was the butcher house, and the smells wafting from the wooden building told him that that was correct. He passed by the elven soldier’s barracks, and the smell from the latrines was even worse than the butcher house. And eventually Ethan ended up just outside the encampment’s garden.

He hadn’t even known the encampment had a garden until now. He guessed that it was a healthy way for the elves to stay in touch with their intrinsic connection to nature in the middle of a warzone. There was a small stone pathway leading into the garden, with blossom trees planted in various spots amongst the flowers. The stone pathway led through all the foliage and off to the side, to a place where Ethan couldn’t see. At first he was reluctant to step foot into the garden; maybe it wasn’t for him to see what was in there.

But then he heard the fluttering of wings off to his right, and he turned slightly to see an enormous black bird—a raven—landing on the branches of a blossom tree. It turned towards him with wide, knowing eyes, and let out a single caw before taking flight, flying deeper into the garden and landing on another tree further away. It turned towards him, and cawed again. Ethan got the feeling that it wanted him to follow it. So he did.

He walked down the stone pathway, and once he got close to the raven, it cawed again and flapped away, further down the path. They continued the cycle a few times, until the path finally curved into a small clearing where a concrete bench sat smack in the center. The bulky figure of a man sat on the bench with his back to Ethan. The raven cawed, flew towards the man, landed on his shoulder, and cawed again.

As Ethan approached, the man lifted his head and turned to look at Ethan over his shoulder. Ethan had already had his suspicions that this man was some sort of god, and that Ethan had been summoned here for a reason. The moment he saw the man’s eyepatch, he knew that he was right.

Ethan walked up to the bench and sat down next to Odin, the Norse king of the gods. He looked exactly as he had in the statue Ethan had seen of him in Asgard: the sweeping cloak, the feathered pants, and even the spear was held tightly in his left hand. Odin’s massive girth took up most of the bench, so Ethan had to squeeze in. Odin made a small attempt, it was clear, to scooch over, but to no avail. Once Ethan had settled into his seat, the raven cawed one final time and flew away, disappearing into the tree-line. Odin turned to Ethan and said, “So, Ethan Locke. I hear you’ve done my job for me.”

For a moment, that confused Ethan, but then he remembered how back in the ancient days, in Ymir’s first life, Odin had been the one to slay him. Ethan chuckled weakly, admittedly feeling vaguely terrified in the presence of such a powerful god. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Odin laughed back, uproariously, clapping Ethan on the back so hard that Ethan felt like his lungs were being shoved up his esophagus. “A chosen one with a sense of humor! I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that. All the chosen ones I’ve ever met, no matter what they’ve been chosen for, are always ‘duty this, responsibility that.’ Don’t get me wrong; sticking to the task is a valiant choice.” He smiled broadly at Ethan, showing off his crooked, toothy smile. “But it’s good that you know how to make and take a joke. Either that means you aren’t too weighed down by the burden of your destiny, or it just hasn’t hit you yet.”

Ethan wasn’t exactly thrilled or reassured by that. But he maintained the façade, smiling at Odin and saying, “Let’s hope it’s the former.”

Odin laughed again. “Yes, indeed, Ethan Locke. Let’s hope.” Suddenly, his smile vanished, and he absentmindedly tugged on the feathers of his pants. “But alas, I did not ask my raven Huginn to summon you here to tell jokes.”

“The raven summoned me?” Ethan asked, confused.

“Huginn is the raven of thought,” Odin explained, “in contrast to my other raven, Muninn, the raven of memory. Whenever I must meet with someone, I generally send Huginn, so he can influence their thoughts to come to where I need to meet them.” 

Ethan nodded. “That makes sense.” It had seemed as if the sudden desire to leave the house and come to the garden had not entirely been his own.

“But I digress,” Odin said. “I have not summoned you here for idle chatter; I have summoned you here for a purpose.” He fell silent for a brief moment after that, leaving Ethan in suspenseful anticipation as to what Odin could possibly have to say to him. And then: “You feel as though your journey is an impossible one. You feel as though it is not one you will be able to complete.”

Ethan considered denying it, but instead asked: “Huginn?”

Odin grinned mirthlessly. “A combination of Huginn and Muninn, I suppose. Seeing your memories and feeling your thoughts on them. You have been through enough hardships to last a lifetime, Ethan Locke, and in such a short time.”

“You’d know that, I guess,” Ethan replied. “So you must also know that I’m fully justified in thinking that this quest is basically hopeless. I mean, it’s taken us this long just to complete the simple task of finding the first ring. How—?”

“Ah, but who ever said the task of finding the first ring would be simple?” Odin countered.

“The steps are simple,” Ethan elaborated. “Get the Enigmatic Lexicon, find Thoth so he can translate it, and use the translation to lead us to the ring. But instead I’ve nearly died, what, six times? And we’ve only accomplished the first step.”

“The steps will always be simple,” Odin said wisely. “Knowing Hecate, I can tell you that the lengths she went to in order to make the rings hard to find, were not at all far. It’s the adversity from Tiamat’s rising and growing forces of chaos that will make the journey difficult and littered with what you mortals call ‘sidequests.’” He glanced over at Ethan. “But I would have thought that that was to be expected?”

Ethan shrugged. “I mean, I knew it wasn’t gonna be easy. Malina and Andrew told me that.” He shook his head. “But—but almost dying over five times in three months? That’s just ridiculous. I—I don’t know if I can handle any more of this,” he finished sheepishly, hanging his head slightly.

The thought briefly crossed Ethan’s mind that he normally wouldn’t be so open about this. Perhaps Odin had sensed his need to vent and was working some kind of godly voodoo to get Ethan to open up easier. He supposed that sort of made sense, although it did sort of feel like an invasion of privacy. 

Odin turned towards Ethan, shifting his massive body and nearly knocking Ethan off the bench. “Listen, boy, what did I just tell you? The adversity ultimately comes from Tiamat. She’s the entire reason for this quest you’re on. Did you really not think she was going to make it at least a little bit difficult for you?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“But nothing,” Odin said sternly, cutting Ethan off. “That’s what the battle between good and evil is, boy. Good has a long, hard, uphill climb through miles of adversity, and it’s evil’s job to provide that adversity. Nobody ever said it was easy being on the good guys’ side, but in the end it’s the most rewarding. Because no matter how hard it tries, evil always loses. Every time.”

“But that’s just it,” Ethan said, sounding quieter and more timid than he wanted to. “I’m not sure if I have what it takes to win.”

“What do you mean, don’t have what it takes?” Odin asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “You’re the chosen one, for my sake! Of course you’ve got what it takes. Don’t you think we’d have a different chosen one if you weren’t cut out for the job?”

“Sure doesn’t feel like I am.”

“You’ve fought Sehaqeq twice and won,” Odin said, starting to count on his fingers. “That’s not something, to my knowledge, anyone’s been able to say. You survived the Furies and Hades’s Underworld prison; again, something almost no one can say. You lived through Freyja’s gift of fire—remind me to talk to her about that, she should really loosen up—and you made it through the first leg of your journey in Alfheim. And you battled both Ymir and Surtr and not only won but killed them both.” Odin looked down at Ethan, disbelief etched on his face. “Boy, if you don’t think you’re cut out for it, then I’ve got some news for you.”

“Why are you even here?” Ethan suddenly snapped. He immediately regretted it, when anger began to cloud Odin’s face and the god’s girth began to swell in fury. Ethan stumbled over a few scattered syllables in an attempt to backpedal before managing to get out: “I—I just mean—well, it’s just—somehow I doubt that you just showed up out of the blue, that you just happened to show up at the perfect time to ‘assuage my fears’ or whatever the official reason is.” Ethan held his chin high, trying to seem confident in the face of a potentially imminent maiming. “So why are you here?”

“I am here to do exactly as you say,” Odin said, his anger fading but the tension still there. “I do not know if you are aware of this, boy, but Hecate has been tracking you and your progress. Though she does not interfere, will not, she is always watching. She has seen how you have once more cheated death up in the house of Dain, and how the constant threat of death affects your resolve. The two of us being old friends, she asked me to talk to you and, as you say, assuage your fears.” He shifted back into his normal position, facing away from Ethan. “You may have found that the elven king Dain allowed you to leave. He felt my presence, and knew it was necessary you meet with me.” He eyed Ethan again out of the corner of his eye. “And it would seem that it is indeed necessary, and very much so. A sorry state you are in, when you deny your fate-given ability to battle the armies of chaos all the way to Tiamat herself.”

“I’ve always had my friends with me, though,” Ethan protested. “I’ve never been on my own, I’ve always had help. Even in the Underworld; Proserpina was helping me, and she got Zevoa to break me out.”

Odin leaned back as much as he could with no backrest to lean on. “And who’s to say your friends will abandon you at any point between now and the final showdown? It is true, Ethan Locke, that facing Tiamat is something you must do on your own. But I think you would be hard-pressed to find yourself lacking for company on the road to that battle.”

“But—”

“All I can tell you, Ethan Locke, is that I have never met a chosen one who walked his path alone,” Odin interrupted. The god then whistled, and two ravens—Huginn and Muninn, Ethan guessed—swooped out of the trees and landed on his shoulders. “I will say no more, Ethan Locke. It is clear that no matter what I choose to say here, you will not be swayed just yet. But I feel I have told you what I feel you need to hear.” 

He slowly stood, and his massive cloak swept out behind him in a grand display of kingliness. “Dwell on the words I have said here tonight, and I think you will soon find the confidence you seek.” He took a few steps forward, and then slightly turned back and added, “And think upon this, Ethan Locke: it takes a normal mortal learning magic at least a decade to attain a mastery of the four base elements. It has taken you but three months.” He shot a small, mirthless grin at Ethan. “Dwell on that, Ethan Locke. Dwell on that.”

Odin walked away from Ethan and to the edge of the clearing. He raised his spear, and stabbed it into the open air. A swirling violet portal opened up where the tip of the spear had struck, and, after looking back at Ethan one last time, Odin walked through it. The portal closed as soon as he was gone, and then Ethan was alone.

Was Odin right? Did Ethan really have what it took to do what needed doing on this quest? For a long time, he sat there on the bench, thinking about the things Odin had said to him. And by the time the morning sun began to creep over the horizon, Ethan was back on his feet again and walking out of the garden, heading back for Dain’s house. He had to see if Malina was well enough to walk yet, because it was time to leave and continue the quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pep talk? Idk I've spent three days writing and rewriting and revising this chapter and I can't seem to come to a good feeling about it. I was gonna just scrap it altogether, but I wanted there to be a chapter about the mental toll of the quest so far on Ethan, so...hence this monstrosity. I'm not really feeling it, especially the ending, but I'll leave it up anyway. Tips on how to revise and make better are SO appreciated.
> 
> New pronunciations:  
> Odin = OH-dihn (if you didn't already know)  
> Huginn = HUGH-gihn  
> Muninn= MYOO=nihn
> 
> The song is "Back On Your Feet Again" by Boyzone. I'm like 95% sure it's an NYSYNC type thing, and that I've heard it somewhere before. Okay maybe 96%.


	22. Send Me On My Way

Leaving Alfheim, Ethan found, was much easier than entering it.

“All you must do is make the portal to where you wish to go, and simply step through,” Dain said to Ethan, Andrew, Malina, and Babi as they were leaving the encampment. “You would normally not have to cut through Asgard, but your destination is Asgard, correct?”

Babi nodded. “Freyja contacted me in a dream while I was asleep last night, telling me to find her in Asgard. She says she can help me overcome my—my trauma.”

Dain nodded sympathetically. “And I am sure that she can.” He looked around at all four of them. “And you all have your gifts, correct? I promised you all rewards for going to rescue Babi for us, and you far exceeded my expectations. I hope the gifts are acceptable.”

Andrew chuckled as he held out the gift. Dain had given them all the same thing: a small box of elven chocolates that Dain had enchanted to never run out. Ethan had already run through three of his box’s infinite cycles; elven chocolate was the best chocolate he’d ever tasted. Malina had confided in him that she was sure the elves’ secret ingredient for it was some kind of drug. “Of course we have them, Dain. We wouldn’t leave them for the world.” 

Dain smiled. “I just may have to hold you to that, sky god,” he said with a laugh. “But other than the gifts, are you all sure you have everything? Are you positive you need no more provisions or supplies? We gave some to Ullr, and we could more than certainly give some to you should you need them.”

“Trust us, we don’t,” Malina assured him. “You’ve given us so much already, Dain. We couldn’t ask for more.”

Dain’s warm smile grew bigger and brighter. “Very well, then. Safe travels to you all. And good luck on your own journey, Babi.”

Babi nodded. “Thank you, King Dain.”

Dain nodded back, his smile never wavering. Behind him shimmered the light of the portal that acted as the encampment’s main door. Dain waved one last goodbye at them and then turned away, stepping through the portal. Once he was gone, the portal closed behind him, leaving the four of them alone on the outside of the elves’ stronghold’s walls.

“So…we just make the portal, then?” Ethan asked. “That’s all it takes?”

“That’s all it takes,” Andrew confirmed. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

That took Ethan a bit by surprise, as he’d kind of expected either Andrew or Malina to do it, but with the newfound courage given to him by Odin’s words of encouragement, he didn’t doubt that he could do it for a single second.

Ethan turned away from them and channeled the magical energy he needed into his fingers, letting it filter loose rather than exploding it out all at once, as he had learned was probably better to do. After a few seconds, the portal was shimmering and crackling in front of them, and Ethan felt pretty proud of himself. 

Malina gently escorted Babi through first. Andrew glanced back at Ethan, gave a reassuring smile, and followed. Finally, Ethan stepped through the portal, but not after taking one last look at the part of Alfheim around him; even though it was a world that had tried to kill him many times, it still was pretty beautiful. And who knew? Maybe one day they’d be able to come back, and see the elves and Ullr again. Maybe after this whole thing was over. 

A sudden dark thought entered Ethan’s head as he passed into the portal: If it’s ever over.

***

“You needn’t worry about Babi,” Freyja reassured them. “Under my care, he will have the best.” She swept her arm around his furry shoulders. “I promise you, Babi, I will work with you as long as it takes for you to overcome this terrible trauma you have experienced. Of this, you can be sure.”

Babi nodded, his appreciation apparent in his expression. “Thank you, Lady Freyja. The kindness that you—” he gestured out at Ethan, Malina, and Andrew “—and all of you, as well, have shown me, will never be forgotten. I will do what I can to repay you all one day.”

Freyja chuckled. “You need not repay me for this, Babi. It is simply the right and just thing to do.”

“And you understand the instructions I gave you on how to find Thoth, right?” Babi asked the three of them. “They are clear enough?”

Malina nodded. “Yes, they’re fine. Go to Darwin, Australia, find the suburb of Stuart Park, go the outskirts of the suburb, and then find the big, fancy mansion which shouldn’t be hard to miss.” She smirked. “Seems pretty simple.”

“When you arrive in Stuart Park, an ibis should appear to guide you to the mansion,” Babi told them. “That should make your journey a bit easier, I think.”

“Why is Thoth in Australia, anyway?” Ethan asked. “Seems like a weird place for a god to hide out.”

“All the Australian gods faded away into the Duat millennia ago,” Andrew said. “Not out of being forgotten or anything; out of their own choice to abandon the mortal coil and live, well, transcendent.” He rolled his eyes. “Pompous bastards. But anyway, that means that since Australia technically has no gods anymore, it’s a bit of a neutral ground for the rest of us.”

“If Thoth wanted to escape the drama of the gods, Australia would be the best place to go,” Malina continued. “In fact, I can think of several other gods who have done the same thing.” She turned towards Freyja. “Speaking of, have you heard from Skadi lately? She moved to Sydney a few eons ago, right? How’s she doing, is she alright?”

Freyja shrugged. “Skadi was never one to associate with us Asgardians, anyhow. She sends Loki a few letters from time to time, but I suspect that is more out of the fact that they were both born ice giants than out of any real affection. Last Loki updated me on her whereabouts, she had relocated to Melbourne and opened an ice cream shop. So I would assume she is doing well.”

Malina nodded. “Good for her.”

“Indeed,” Freyja agreed. “But we have already spent enough time on pleasantries, it would seem; you have a world to save, do you not?” she added with a small smile.

Andrew smiled back at her. “And a god to find.” He nodded a goodbye at Freyja, and Freyja nodded back. She then turned, putting her arm around Babi’s shoulder and gently guiding him away. Babi waved one last goodbye before following her through the northward door to the rest of Asgard.

Andrew turned towards Ethan and Malina and said, with a clap of his hands, “So are you guys ready to get going?”

“Absolutely,” Ethan said. “Alfheim was great and all but it keeps trying to kill me. It’ll be nice to go to a mortal place like Australia where that won’t happen,” he added with a sarcastic smile. 

Malina stopped and gave him a strange look. “Are you seriously unaware of all the deadly wildlife in Australia?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “I was kidding. Geez.”

“Your joke was bad and you should feel bad.”

“Odin liked my jokes.”

“Odin is also a god who’s so half-drunk all the time that he’ll laugh at anything,” Andrew cut in. “But Freyja was right, guys. We really should get going. Malina, would you like to do the honors, and not mess up this time?”

Malina’s response was just to punch him in the arm. Ethan laughed. Andrew winced and rubbed his arm, looking like he was in actual pain, and Malina just scoffed and waved her hands. A crackling silver portal appeared in front of them, and one by one, they all went through.

***

“Die!” Malina shouted. “Die, die, die, why won’t you die?”

“Just because its legs are moving doesn’t mean it isn’t dead,” Andrew said, pulling her back from the enormous spider that she had been crushing beneath her heel. “It’s called postmortem muscle spasms.”

“I don’t trust it,” Malina said, still staring down at the spider’s broken body with contempt and suspicion. “That bitch Arachne’s had it out for me for centuries. She probably knows we’re in Australia, where her spiders are strongest.”

“Why do you have so many enemies?” Ethan asked from where he was hiding behind Andrew. Once they’d stepped through the portal and into a small wooded area just on the outskirts of Stuart Park, the spider had just suddenly leapt out at them from a bush and latched itself onto Malina. Ethan, having had a lifelong terror of spiders, had immediately shrieked and jumped away. He wasn’t necessarily proud of it, but at the same time he didn’t really care. He was comfortable enough around Malina and Andrew by now, anyway.

Malina shrugged, breathing heavily and never once taking her eyes off of the dead spider. “I dunno. Aphrodite once told me it was because I’m so hotheaded and tomboyish that people have shut me out all my life, which in turn has led me to shut others out to the point where I’m just rude and insensitive to everyone I meet.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a jerk of her head. “But what does she know? She’s a goddess of love, not therapy.”

“Still, it just seems unlikely that—” Ethan was cut off by the “dead” spider suddenly jumping to its feet and hissing. “Shit!”

“Okay, okay, we’re running away now, just get to the road!” Andrew cried, kicking a stick towards the spider before turning and running. 

“You can go tell your bitch of a mother that it’s her own fault she lost that weaving contest!” Malina shouted at the spider while quickly backing away. “Athena didn’t hire me to get her drunk the night before, I was just being friendly and inviting her out to a girl’s night! She made her choice!”

Once the three of them got to the main entrance road of Stuart Park, the spider started to back off and retreat into the forest. It made Ethan wonder if Arachne really had sent that spider to attack them. If so, Ethan was beginning to question whether keeping Malina on the team made sense from a logistics standpoint; if she really had that many enemies, the quest would only be made that much more difficult with all of her old battles coming back to haunt her at every turn.

Stuart Park, once he was able to get past the spider attack, seemed like a nice enough suburb to live. The houses were quaint, orderly, and all exactly the same: white shingles, red door, three front windows, and two stories. Ethan briefly felt sorry for the fact that none of these people had third-floor attics or lofts to use as storage spaces for all their junk. But then, he thought, maybe they had basements. Although, Ethan surmised, maybe they just didn’t have a lot of stuff; if he lived in a place where the surrounding wildlife was a constant threat to his existence, he’d keep things light too so he could pack up and run at a moment’s notice if it came to that. 

“So…do we just walk?” Ethan asked. “Walk around and look for the big mansion, like Babi said?”

Andrew shook his head. “Babi said there would be an ibis waiting for us to guide us there.”

“What’s an ibis?”

“That’s an ibis,” Malina said. Ethan glanced over at her. She was turned around, pointing at something behind them. He swiveled, and saw the strangest looking little bird he’d ever seen.

The ibis stood on two stick-thin, bony legs that looked like they were far too weak to support the rest of the bird’s body. Its body kind of reminded Ethan of a large football that somebody had glued feathers all onto and then attached a head and legs to. Most of its feathers were white, save for its tail feathers, which were black. Oddly enough, its head didn’t seem to have any feathers, unlike most birds; it just sort of jutted out from its body and seemed naked. Its neck was relatively short, its head a small ball bearing two beady black eyes, and its beak was the same length—maybe even longer—as its legs, curving down slightly. 

“This is our guide?” Ethan asked incredulously.

The ibis looked at Ethan and squawked.

“Don’t say that,” Andrew said disapprovingly. “It’s one of Thoth’s ibises, so it’s just as smart as you or me. Would you like that if someone said that about you?”

“I’m not an ibis, though.”

The ibis flapped forward and angrily nipped Ethan on the ankle.

“Ow!” he cried, jumping back in pain. “What the hell?”

“Look, now you made it mad,” Malina sighed.

“Stop upsetting the ibis,” Andrew chastised. 

“I’m not!”

“Clearly you are, or it wouldn’t be attacking you,” Malina pointed out. “Now shut up. If Thoth’s ibises don’t like you, he might not like you, and that’s the last thing we need right now. He might refuse to help us.”

Ethan rubbed his ankle, glaring at the ibis. “Fine. But this isn’t over, birdy.”

The ibis squawked defiantly, flapping its wings at him.

Andrew knelt down in front of the ibis and said gently, “Hey there. We’re here to see Thoth, as you might have already guessed. Would you be so kind as to take us to him, please? It’s urgent.”

The ibis squawked again. Then it turned around, and started slowly but surely strutting down the road. Andrew stood up. “I guess that’s a yes?”

Malina shrugged. “Whatever.” She started walking, following the ibis and taking care not to walk next to or in front of it, which seemed to irritate her as the bird was walking very slowly. Ethan rolled his eyes. If they had to stay behind the ibis, then this would take forever. 

“Come on,” Andrew said, shoving Ethan forward. “Let’s go. And don’t insult the ibis again.”

Ethan snorted. “As if it needs me to.”

The ibis squawked.

***

As far as mansions went, it wasn’t the biggest one Ethan had ever seen.

They were approaching the mansion from the back, as there didn’t seem to be a front entrance; at the very least, there was no driveway. And the main entrance seemed to be in the back, anyway; in the center of the enormous hedge wall, there were soaring golden gates, securely padlocked with an electronic keypad. The mansion beyond was huge, but honestly, Ethan had been to the rich suburbs of Montana once; he’d seen bigger. 

Through the gate, Ethan could see a backyard pool beyond the hedge wall, one with a plethora of ibises swimming around casually in it. Off to the side there were some baboons lounging on pool chairs. One appeared to be sunbathing, or at least trying to. Two slightly spiraling staircases curled upwards beyond the pool and up to the balcony, where the grand doors that led into the mansion stood. Since evening was just beginning to fall, all the lights in the mansion seemed to be on, especially the domineering and enormously intricate chandelier that Ethan could see hanging above the main room. A tower sat on the left side of the mansion, soaring far up to the sky and making Ethan wonder what Thoth would need an imposing tower like that for. Smoke poured out of the chimney positioned on the mansion’s right side. And, of course, there were windows everywhere. The entire back wall seemed to be ninety-percent windows. 

The ibis sauntered up to the gate, turned, and squawked at them. Andrew blinked in confusion at it. “What? Won’t Thoth let us in?”

The ibis squawked again, and flapped its wing wildly at the keypad.

“Oh, it needs to enter the code,” Malina reasoned.

“So why doesn’t it just do it?” Ethan asked.

“It’s too small, we need to lift it up,” Andrew realized, walking over and picking the ibis up. He held it up to the keypad, and it entered the code with its beak. A metallic thrum sounded, and the gates unlocked. 

Squawking again, the ibis flapped out of Andrew’s hands and hopped through the space between the bars. Malina stepped over and pushed the gates open, and all three of them walked through. The ibis turned and squawked at Ethan once he had entered, and his response was just to casually flip it the bird.

“Hey!” Andrew said, shoving Ethan’s hand back to his side. “Holy shit, Ethan, that’s so rude!”

“It just squawked at me for no reason!” Ethan cried, defending himself. “That thing has it out for me, I swear.”

“The ibis just wants you to close the gates, dumbass,” Malina said. “You were the last one through, so you have to do it.”

Ethan looked down at the ibis, who was glaring at him. He sheepishly turned and closed the gates, quietly adding, “I was gonna do that anyway.” 

The ibis squawked at them one last time and flew across the pool and landed on the stairs, beginning to saunter up. “Come on,” Malina said, starting to walk around the pool. “It’s time to meet with Thoth. If you’re lucky, he won’t kill you for being such an ass to his birds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another mostly filler chapter! Woo! To those of you who do keep up with this (I think there's one or two of you), sorry for the longer than usual wait, but life kind of got away from me lately and I haven't had time to sit down and write. But I got some time today, and I'm posting this now before I forget. It was filler, so it was fortunately easy to write in the little time I had to do it. 
> 
> Ibis is pronounced EYE-biss, but other than that I don't think there's any new pronunciations this chapter (unless you wanna know how to pronounce Arachne, which is ah-RACK-knee). So the song is "Send Me On My Way" by Rusted Root (highly recommend this song!). 
> 
> That's it from me for now. Catch you guys next time!


	23. Favors

Once they’d reached the top of the stairs, the ibis spread its wings and flew itself up to the door handle. It flapped awkwardly for a few moments as it tried to hover and also use its stick-like feet to push the handle down and open the door. Whenever someone tried to hold him up or just open the door themselves, they’d get a nip for their troubles. Clearly, Malina realized, this ibis was probably really was as big of a dick as Ethan had said. Kudos to him for noticing it right away and not being afraid to speak out against it. She just hoped he didn’t get them all killed for it.

The first time Malina had met Thoth, he’d at first seemed like a pretty nice guy, but behind that calm and kindly exterior was a god with a shorter fuse than Ares. Absolutely anything could set the guy off, and once that had happened, he revealed the worst temper Malina had ever seen. So naturally she’d tried to steer clear of him a lot, as had most other gods. But the last time she and Thoth had crossed paths—it hadn’t been pretty. It was her fault, really. She should have known better than to push Thoth’s buttons while a battle axe was within reach. If she sat down, rolled her stomach, and squeezed, she could still sometimes see the scar. 

Finally, after several minutes of struggling, the ibis managed to push open the door. It quickly dropped down to the ground and slipped its body into the crack to keep it from shutting again. Andrew reached forward and held the door, pushing it all the way open. The ibis squawked its thanks at him—at least that was what Malina assumed the squawk meant—and hopped inside. Malina, Ethan, and then Andrew followed it. 

The inside of the mansion was just as extravagant as the outside. They stood in a long hallway with rooms all along the side, with the front door at the end. As they walked across the neatly polished hardwood floors, they passed by a lounging area positioned in front of one of the many windows that faced the pool. Behind the lounging area was the enormous kitchen area, and across from that was what looked to be a den/gaming room. It was dimly lit; all Malina could make out was the classic black leather Laz-E-Boy that every rich older man seemed to own. 

Next to the den was a closed door. As they passed by it, Malina heard the sound of a toilet flushing. The door opened, and a baboon bearing a toilet paper trail casually sauntered out, headed for the pool. He even had little baboon goggles and a swim cap on.

Ethan whistled. “Damn. These ibises and baboons must have it made here.”

Malina shrugged. “Must be a perk of being the sacred animal to such a prominent god.”

At the end of the hallway, to the left, there was a grand, curving staircase leading up to the second floor. To the right, a massive room that Malina guessed was some kind of office area. The glass doors were closed, but it was thick glass, so Malina could only just barely see inside. From what she could see, though, there was a man shuffling around in there, doing gods knew what. 

The ibis tapped its beak twice on the door. “Yes, yes, Gerald, thank you. There’s a treat waiting on your bed,” the man called from inside. “Guests, you may enter.”

Gerald the ibis squawked at them one final time before flapping its wings and flying up the staircase to the second floor. 

Andrew glanced at Malina first, then Ethan, before saying, “You guys ready to meet Thoth?”

“Yeah,” Ethan said excitedly.

“Sure,” Malina said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s hope he doesn’t try to disembowel me again like the last time.”

“What?” Ethan asked, looking alarmed.

“Maybe don’t give him a reason to, then,” Andrew said, glaring at Malina. She stuck her tongue out at him. He just sighed and pushed open the doors.

Malina had to admit, even she was amazed at what she saw beyond the doors. An enormous library with ceilings higher than the house and walls as wide as five of his backyard pools stretched out in front of her. Rows and rows of oaken bookshelves, all filled to the brim with books, lined the room. Each shelf was labeled something different: _Fiction, Non-fiction, The Sciences, Evolutionism vs. Creationism, Why Mankind Is Wrong About Egypt’s History_ , etc. There was no earthly way this library could have been there, though; from the outside, the room was maybe an eighth of the library’s size. Thoth had likely enchanted it.

As they entered, Thoth was pacing around in a circle, chewing on a pen as he read from a book in his hand. He was in his human form rather than his zoomorphic one—much to Malina’s relief—which was a lanky, olive-skinned man with greying hair and a thick black beard with a white streak through it. He wore what looked like four layers of clothing: a white undershirt, an unbuttoned plaid button-down, a hoodie, and a lab coat. His jeans were ratty and filthy, and his shoes no better. His hair was wild, as if he hadn’t left the library in days. In fact, he probably hadn’t. 

As Malina watched him pace, he absentmindedly pushed his glasses so far back up his nose that the lenses pushed up against his eyes. It didn’t seem to bother him, though. It was clear that he was so engrossed in what he was reading that not only was he unaware of the glasses—which must have been uncomfortable—but also completely unaware of their presence in the room, despite the fact that just seconds ago he’d acknowledged them. So Andrew gently shut the door, and then politely but loudly cleared his throat to get Thoth’s attention.

Thoth looked up. “Oh! Hello. Sorry, but this is just such a fascinating read.” He closed the book and showed them the cover: _1001 Changes in Quantum Physics since 1905_. “Of course, I practically invented the subject of quantum physics, but it’s always refreshing to learn about it all over again through the eyes of different mortals who think they know more than me,” he added with a laugh. “Although this author—gods know I’ll never remember his name—has really only presented forty-five legitimate changes to the subject. But 45 Changes isn’t quite as catchy as 1001. Plus, it makes for a much shorter manuscript.”

He tossed the book aside onto a nearby desk. “But enough about that. Welcome! I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess in here, but I promise, there’s a method to this madness.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Andrew said nonchalantly, clearly trying to suck his way to Thoth’s good side. Malina snickered to herself at her own joke. Wouldn’t be the first time Andrew had done that to somebody, she thought to herself. 

“Oh, pish,” Thoth rebutted, waving a hand. “I know it’s a mess, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better. Just be careful where you walk; like I said, there’s a method here, and if you accidentally knock over a stack of books then the whole order will be ruined.”

Malina knelt down and examined a pile of books next to her. They seemed to be, based on the flashy and glamorous jacket art, a series of comedy books, with titles like _Star Girl and the Damsel, Striptease_ , and _Fires of Passion_ —wait, on second thought, they were sex books. Suddenly interested, Malina picked out an interesting-looking one— _The Most Important Bone In The Body_ —from the middle of the stack. It teetered for a second, but she caught it.

“Don’t do that!” Thoth suddenly shouted, snapping Malina to attention. His face was flushed, and he looked flustered and upset as he visibly tried to calm himself down. “Please,” he added weakly.

“Chill,” Malina muttered as she placed the book back on top of the stack.

“Back where you found it, please.” Thoth had to choke out the last word. “It’s just—I’d prefer the order of things didn’t get messed up.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Malina placed the book back in between _Striptease_ and _Broad Daylight_. 

As she stood back up, Thoth looked her up and down for a few moments before his eyes widened. “You. I—I remember you.”

Andrew and Ethan looked back and forth between them nervously, both clearly worried that something was about to happen. Malina wasn’t. “Yeah, you tried to disembowel me, remember?” she said, pulling up her shirt just a bit. She squatted, rolled her stomach and squeezed. A jagged, faint pink outline appeared. “See? You can still see the scar,” she pointed out.

“Yes, yes,” Thoth said, sounding shaken. “Um—I suppose I have something to say to you, then.”

Malina arched an eyebrow in confusion as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He unfurled it, cleared his throat, and read: “I’m sorry that I—erm, well, it says ‘name misdoing’, so I suppose—um, I’m sorry that I tried to disembowel you. That was wrong, and I hope you can forgive me.” 

He looked up at Malina nervously, and continued: “I understand if this affects our relationship, but can only hope that it does not. The next time that I am angry with you, I will try not to—well—disembowel you, but instead, talk it out in a peaceful manner.”

He slipped the paper back in his pocket, and started walking towards Malina awkwardly, with his arms stretched out. “What are you doing?” Malina asked, confused and glancing towards Andrew and Ethan to make sure neither of them were filming this. They weren’t, but they were laughing. 

“I’m supposed to hug you now,” Thoth said quietly as he wrapped himself around Malina. She didn’t try to break free, but she didn’t hug him back, either. She just stood there, beyond confused.

“It’s part of a new ‘zen’ thing I’m doing,” he whispered, uncomfortably close to her ear. “Rama—you know him, he’s Hindu—he said it would help with my anger issues.” 

“Please stop this,” was Malina’s only reply.

“Resisting will only make it worse for both of us,” he answered. “I have to hug you for ten seconds.”

“Hasn’t it been ten seconds yet?”

“Eight, actually.”

So they stood there for two more seconds, and then Thoth pulled away. Then he hurriedly pulled the paper back out again. “Thank you for allowing me to reconcile with you,” he read. “I hope this offered sufficient closure for you, and that it has helped you forgive me.”

“I don’t care that you tried to disembowel me,” Malina interrupted. “I never cared. The scar’s kinda cool, actually. You can stop doing this, it’s not necessary, really.”

“Oh, thank you,” Thoth said with a sigh of relief. He put the paper away, and straightened his back. “As oddly calming as that ‘apologizing’ thing is, the act of having to do it is incredibly awkward.”

“Please never do it again,” Malina said sincerely.

“Duly noted,” Thoth replied. Then he turned away and started walking, beckoning for the three of them to follow. “Now please, come with me. You all came here for a reason, yes? You need me to translate the Enigmatic Lexicon.”

“Can you do it?” Ethan asked.

Thoth glanced back at him and snorted. “Can I do it? Boy, you’re speaking to the son of Knowledge herself. If anybody can do it, it’s me.”

***

Thoth paraded them around the library for a time until eventually, they reached the back end of the unsettlingly enormous room. Malina was beginning to realize why Thoth was so rarely seen anymore; it was entirely probable that he was getting lost in this massive library of his. 

The back of the library was a well-decorated seating area. Plush armchairs with ornate flowery designs on them were arranged around brick-lined stone tables. Five floor-to-ceiling windows lined the wall, and the end two were stain-glass. At first Malina thought that the light was just shimmering through the pretty pattern on the glass, but then she realized that the designs were actually moving.

Thoth noticed her looking at them and explained, “The designs on those windows were enchanted by my cousin Isis. I’m sure you’ve met her, you know her power. She enchanted them to reflect the mind of the person before them. So the patterns will change themselves to suit you.” He glanced up at the still-shifting design. “Be the resulting images good or bad—well, that’s not really up to anybody, now is it?” he finished solemnly.

Malina gulped, staring hard at the images as she realized what they were changing into: an image of her, wrapped in chains, screaming. And behind her, she could see him, oh gods, he was terrible, she still had nightmares about him…he raised his scourge to strike another blow, the millionth blow among billions to come, and the image of her screamed a soundless scream, suffering and regretting and wishing that she hadn’t done what she’d done—

She blinked, shaking herself away from the memories and from the window. She refused to allow Ethan to see her past just yet, and not like this. Just a glance over at him told Malina that he was confused and a bit scared at what he’d just seen. Andrew looked like he was trying to pretend like he hadn’t seen it, and Thoth was digging through a pile of books on the floor.

“Malina—” Ethan started.

“Don’t,” she said softly, silencing him. “It’s not important.” And with that, she turned away from the window, and the images faded.

“Aha, here it is,” Thoth suddenly said, standing up straight with a protractor-looking device in his hands. “My ultimate translator. This baby can translate anything, let me tell you. Most certainly your book.” He held out a hand, not taking his eyes off of the device. “May I see it? The Lexicon?”

Andrew reached into his knapsack and pulled out the book. It was not very big; it was a thin little book, with a ratty and faded blue cover. The pages were no better, with watermarks and rips littering the text. But hopefully it was still translatable. It had to be.

Thoth set his translator down on one of the tables, and opened up the Lexicon. He leafed through the pages for a few moments, before smirking and saying, “This is Deus Colloquor.”

“Yeah,” Andrew replied slowly after a few moments of silence. “It is. Can you translate it?”

Thoth snapped the book shut. “My boy, I invented Deus Colloquor. This is my language. Of course I can translate it.” He chuckled. “It’s just, I don’t know, I sort of thought you had a challenge for me.”

“Well, it kind of is a challenge,” Ethan piped up. “Nobody else can read it.”

“Because nobody cared to remember the language once that pesky English came along,” Thoth muttered. “Honestly, Athena thinks she’s all that just because she invented Greek and English. Deus Colloquor is a million times better than either of those will ever be.”

“Look, this isn’t about your pissing match between you and the other knowledge gods,” Malina interrupted. She saw Thoth tense up, his eye twitching slightly, but she didn’t really care. If he tried to disembowel her again, she’d be ready this time. “We’re on a bit of a schedule here. So could you get on with it?”

Thoth took a few deep breaths before answering, during which time Andrew wouldn’t stop glaring at her. “I’ll do it,” he said, “but on one condition.”

“Name it,” Ethan said, a little too eagerly, before Andrew or Malina could stop him. Malina tensed up, suddenly anxious. They’d have to teach him later not to make deals so quickly with gods; they often ended poorly.

“Take a look out of these three middle windows,” Thoth said, turning and gesturing to them. “What do you see?”

Malina blinked and looked up. Truth be told, she hadn’t looked before. And she was startled to see a—

“A desert,” Andrew answered for them, sounding surprised himself. “How? And which one?”

“Well, anything is possible with magic, my boy,” Thoth replied. “And as for which desert, it happens to be the Sinai Desert, but that’s not important.”

“Wait,” Ethan spoke up. “The Sinai Desert? Isn’t that back in Egypt?”

“As I said, anything is possible with magic,” Thoth repeated. “But which desert it is, is unimportant. Tell me—what do you notice about it?”

There was silence for a long time as the three of them searched for an answer to Thoth’s question. It was Ethan who finally noticed it, pointing out at it: “There’s blood on the sand.” Malina followed his gaze, and saw that he was right. Large bloodstains that she had assumed were just discolorations in the sand dotted the dunes left and right.

Thoth nodded. “Exactly.”

“Thoth, why is there blood on the sand?” Malina asked, growing increasingly worried about the deal they had struck with him.

“With the awakening of Tiamat has come the awakening of many dark creatures thought lost to the test of time,” Thoth said, with a glance at Ethan, who was still staring out at the bloody sand. “The three of you have already fought the giants, Ymir and Surtr.”

“How did you know that?” Andrew asked. “I thought you cut yourself off from everybody else.”

Thoth shrugged. “My ibises still deliver me news. And news travels fast through the Duat, you know that.” His expression darkened. “But although Surtr and Ymir have been disposed of, there is still great evil stirring in the dark corners of the universe. One of those evils has already been to visit me many a time, at the command of his mother Eris, who remains at large,” he finished with a pointed glance to Andrew.

Malina nudged the sky god. “Told you we should’ve hunted her down.”

“Now is not the time,” he warned her.

“Eris has sent him day after day to my home here, every day for three months now,” Thoth continued. “And every day for three months, I have battled him.”

“Wait, three months?” Ethan asked, incredulous. “Malina, how long has it been since we met at Yale?”

She thought about it for a few moments before answering: “About three months.”

Thoth nodded. “It would seem that the boy’s awakening as a magician coincided with Tiamat’s awakening in her prison. Not a coincidence, I would think.” He straightened, and turned towards the three of them. “But that is unimportant. What is important is that I have grown weary as of late. My magic is becoming depleted, with these daily battles against these forces of chaos.”

Malina already knew where this was going. “And in exchange for your help, you want ours. You want us to be your guard dogs.”

“Only for today,” Thoth clarified. “So I can have time to recharge while I translate your Lexicon for you.”

Malina was about to argue, when Andrew stepped in and said, “That seems reasonable. How long do you think you’ll need?”

“Not long at all,” Thoth replied. “But your battle will be far longer than mine, of that I can assure you.”

“Fine,” Ethan cut in. “We’ll do it. But you keep talking about this guy without saying his name. Who is he? Who’s been attacking you?”

Thoth swallowed hard before answering: “Apep.”

Andrew gasped, and Malina felt the color drain from her face. “Not Apep. Dammit, Thoth, why Apep?” she exclaimed.

Even Ethan looked a bit frightened. “Apep? Isn’t he—?”

“The Egyptian version of Tiamat, I suppose you could call him,” Thoth explained. “Far less powerful, of course, but same principle: giant snake, primordial chaos, the works. And don’t worry, Apep himself never comes. I would imagine he’s still chained in the Duat where Osiris and Horus put him.”

Malina breathed a sigh of relief. At least they wouldn’t have to face Apep himself. That battle would have gotten very deadly, very fast, and not in their favor.

“Then who does come?” Andrew asked.

“Apep’s army of demons,” Thoth replied. “They are infinite, and day after day a thousand and one of them come here to slaughter me. And each group is more powerful than the last.”

“Then I guess we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Andrew said.

“There’s an understatement,” Malina grumbled.

“So when do they get here?” Ethan asked.

“I was about to say, the three of you should probably get battle-ready in this little time you have left,” Thoth replied, gazing back out through the windows at the desert. Malina followed his gaze, and saw what he was looking at: off in the distance, on the horizon, was a thundering cloud of dust. And it was only getting bigger, which meant it was getting closer and closer. “I would think they’ll be here within the hour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! To those few of you who are following along at home, I'm sorry for this huge gap between updates. Life sort of got away from me for a while, what with my demanding new job, and the fact that I'm heading off to college in the fall, and...gah. It's a lot to deal with, so I haven't had a ton of time/energy to write. But nonetheless! I managed to bang out this new chapter just for y'all last night. And now, here it is!
> 
> A great battle is approaching...a battle that mostly serves as filler because I wasn't sure how to fill up the time between them giving Thoth the Lexicon and Thoth successfully translating it. I figured since I'm mildly decent at writing fight scenes, then that would be appropriate. 
> 
> New pronunciations:  
> Apep = AH-pep (nothing too complicated)
> 
> The song is "Favors" by Solange. 
> 
> That's it from me for now, guys. Catch you next time!


	24. Our Solemn Hour

After trying to get solid footing on a plateau made entirely of sand for ten minutes, Ethan finally gave up. He only hoped that when Apep’s army arrived, he wouldn’t fall flat on his face with his first step forward.

He’d expected to be terrified. Hell, he’d expected to have wet his pants a little bit by now. The dust cloud that surrounded the thunderously approaching army was so close that Ethan could see the grotesque and deformed silhouettes of the rabid demons. But there was something about being the sole slayer of two powerful and primordial giants that gave one an extraordinary boost of confidence.

So he stood there, largely unafraid (okay, so maybe he was a little scared), tightly gripping the sword Thoth had given him. To his left stood Andrew, standing tall and mighty, the staff Hecate had given him by his side. And to Ethan’s right stood Malina, her hair blowing gently in the desert wind, her hands glowing with magic. She had refused Thoth’s offer of a handheld weapon, claiming that her magic would be enough.

They stood like that for a long time, silently watching the army grow closer and steeling themselves for the fight. Then Ethan piped up: “Are we sure this is such a good idea? Three against a thousand and one?”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Malina replied, her tone grim. “No going back.”

“And it’s like Thoth said, with magic anything is possible,” Andrew assured him.

“But I’m not using magic, I’m using a sword,” Ethan said. “And I’ve never used a sword before.”

“You can use magic with the sword, you know,” Malina told him. “Use the air to guide the blade. Dig it into the earth and cause a tectonic rift. Freeze it, or set it on fire.” She smirked. “There’s a lot of things you can do with magic and a sword.”

Ethan swallowed hard. The army was within earshot now. He could hear them screeching and roaring and howling for blood. His grip on the sword tightened. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime.”

They stayed silent for a little while longer. And when the army finally fell upon them, Ethan was ready.

***

Malina’s advice had proved to be invaluable. Manipulating the air into guiding the sword made Ethan feel like he was an experienced swordsman, despite never having even seen a sword in person before in his entire life. But using the magic he had, he was able to hack and slash his way through hellish creatures that never stood a chance against him. 

Somewhere off in the crowd of demons that had swarmed around them, Malina and Andrew seemed to be doing just fine. He spotted a brilliant flash of light somewhere to his left, and a group of demons went flying, screaming. One of them came careening straight towards him, and without even thinking he thrust his sword upwards. The demon’s screeches came to an abrupt halt.

Shoving the body off of the blade, Ethan whipped around just in time to see a three-armed, jackal-headed demon come lumbering towards him. It raised its meaty fists to clobber Ethan, but he shifted his feet in the sand and willed it upwards into the demon’s face. The demon stumbled backwards, blinded, as Ethan set his sword on fire and plunged it straight into the beast’s heart.

It let out a final, agonizing cry, attracting other demons nearby. They started to close in on Ethan, coming at him from the front, and he panicked briefly, trying to think of a way out. When he thought of one, he acted fast. He ripped the blade out of the demon, and waited until the approaching beasts were in a cluster. Then he summoned the air around him and willed it forward, blasting the dead demon’s body backwards. It slammed into the other demons, sending them all flying. 

Ethan laughed at the absurdity of it, and took a step backwards—right off of a dune. He cried out as he tumbled backwards, and his sword fell out of his grip. 

He rolled along down the dune for a few moments, unable to stop himself, before he finally came across a rock. He grabbed onto it, and fortunately it stayed in place. He immediately stopped tumbling, and he took a moment to steady himself. Once he had, he looked up to see a giant red-skinned demon with ram horns and goat legs raising Ethan’s sword high in the air over him. The demon snarled, and thrust downward with a mighty cry.

Ethan screamed and rolled. The blade plunged into the sand right where Ethan had been, and the demon roared in anger. And no sooner had Ethan escaped being stabbed when suddenly there was another demon leaping on top of him. Ethan tried to throw it off, but the creature shrieked and promptly took a bite out of Ethan’s left shoulder.

Reeling from the pain, and suddenly furious at this situation Thoth had forced them into, Ethan suddenly and violently unleashed a blast of power from his inner core. Fire and air rippled outwards from his body, blasting back all of the demons who had begun to close in on him. The demon that had bitten him was roasted to death. 

As its charred body fell off of Ethan, he suddenly felt another hand grip him on his good shoulder. His first instinct was to push it away, but then he heard a voice say: “Ethan, it’s okay, come on, get up!” He knew that voice. It was Andrew.

Ethan looked up to see Andrew standing over him, his staff in one hand and his other outstretched. Ethan grabbed it, and Andrew helped him to his feet. Andrew quickly inspected the wound on Ethan’s shoulder, grimacing when he saw it. “I won’t lie to you, it’s not good,” the god said. “Come on. You might not be able to use a sword, but you can still use magic.” He picked up Ethan’s sword and flung it away, far out of reach of the remaining demons. “And we’re gonna need it.”

“Why?” Ethan asked as Andrew helped him back up the dune.

“You remember how Thoth said ‘a thousand and one’?” Andrew said. “Well, turns out the ‘and one’ in that number is their leader. And he’s just shown up.”

“Apep?” Ethan asked, suddenly scared. He wasn’t entirely sure who Apep was—he only knew what Thoth had told him—but based on Andrew’s and Malina’s reaction on hearing his name, Ethan could only assume Apep wasn’t a fun guy.

“No, thank the gods,” Andrew said as they reached the top of the dune. “But the leader is close.” The god pointed up into the sky. “Look.”

Ethan looked up to see the figure of some winged creature circling overhead. He heard it screech, and even from far away the sound was near-deafening. “What the hell is that thing?” he shouted over the noise.

“Worry about that later,” Andrew said, jumping down from the dune. “There’s still about a hundred demons left.” Ethan looked up to see that Andrew was right, and that those hundred were closing in on Malina, surrounding her. Helping her came first.

Ethan jumped down after Andrew, giving his best battle cry as he rejoined the fray. Next to him, Andrew had his weapon to beat the demons to death, but with a wounded shoulder, Ethan wasn’t quite so lucky. So he did the next best thing: any demon that approached him, he grabbed by the head, and burned its face off.

That strategy worked quite well up until when it didn’t. A big demon with crocodile skin and hippo teeth lunged at him, and they both went rolling as the demon tackled him. When they stopped, the demon was on top of Ethan, pinning his arms down. Ethan cried out in pain as the wound on his shoulder was stretched out and exposed to the sand.

The demon roared, its mighty jaws moving in for a kill. Ethan managed to wrench his good arm free, and grabbed the beast by the face, setting his palm on fire and waiting for the demon to burn. When it didn’t, Ethan suddenly became very afraid.

Knocking Ethan’s hand away, the demon roared again, and again went in for the kill. Ethan tried to summon air magic to push the beast off of him, but it only snapped the creature’s head back. Roaring a third time, it went back in—and suddenly went rigid.

Pushing its now-dead body off of him, Ethan looked up to see Malina standing over him, holding his sword. The demon’s blood dripped off of the blade with an eerie sheen in the sunlight. She dropped the sword and held out a hand. For the second time that day, Ethan had to be helped back up to his feet.

“Crocodile demons,” she explained. “Impervious to fire.”

“Now you tell me,” Ethan muttered.

Andrew came and stood by their side. “You two alright?”

Malina nodded. Ethan answered, “Aside from the bite, I’m okay.”

Malina took a look at the wound on Ethan’s shoulder. “Oof. Must’ve been a parasite demon. They’re big fans of human flesh.” She glanced behind her, where the windows of Thoth’s mansion stood as a reminder of where to go if they wanted to get back. The windows were magical; all they had to do was step through, and they would be back in Australia. “We should get you back. We don’t want that to get infected.”

“Yeah, but first we need to take care of that,” Andrew reminded them, pointing upwards with his staff. Ethan followed his gaze to see that the winged demon was still up in the sky. It suddenly screeched, and its body started to get bigger. Ethan blinked as he realized what that meant: it was coming.

“Ethan, get behind me,” Malina insisted, stepping in front of him protectively. Her hands started to glow as she activated her magic. “You’re in no condition to be fighting this thing.”

“What even is it?” Ethan asked, not bothering to argue.

“A criosphinx,” she answered grimly.

“Shit,” Andrew muttered under his breath.

The demon suddenly landed in front of them in an explosion of sand. It roared at them, and the force of the sound nearly blew them all back. Ethan took a moment to look at the beast, and didn’t really like what he saw.

Powerful, blood-red wings rose from the creature’s back, and its body was that of a sleek, limber, and muscular lion (albeit enormous as well). Even standing on four legs, the creature stood at a height that he wagered was about as tall (or taller) as the late giant Surtr. Deadly-looking claws jutted from the criosphinx’s claws, and its head was a ram’s head, with curled and razor-sharp horns poking out of its skull. 

It roared again, and wasted no time in attacking. It pounced, headed for Andrew. Malina cried out and shot a beam of light at it, and Andrew jumped to the side, whacking the criosphinx with his staff. The creature shrieked, angry, and reached out a mighty paw to swipe at Andrew. He leapt into the air using magic, and landed on the back of the beast.

Ethan watched as Andrew drove his staff into the back of the criosphinx’s neck, and it cried out in pain, bucking backwards. Andrew was thrown, landing in the sand, dazed. The criosphinx turned on him, but Malina suddenly shouted, “Hey ugly! Over here!” and shot another bolt of light at it. 

The bolt hit the beast right in the face. It shook its head twice, and turned towards Malina, irritated and annoyed. “Go make sure Andrew’s okay,” Malina said, pushing Ethan to the side.

“What? Are—are you sure?”

“Yes, now go!” Malina shouted, jumping backwards as the criosphinx lunged. Ethan was thrown to the side by the force of the impact, and he looked up to see Malina pinned to the ground by the creature.

“Malina!” Ethan shouted, already working up the energy to summon flames so he could go.

“Go!” she yelled back, wrenching an arm free and digging into her pocket. “Make sure Andrew’s okay! And shield your eyes!”

Ethan watched as she pulled out a small wristwatch, and he immediately knew what she was about to do. Scrambling to his feet, Ethan rushed over to Andrew’s side.

“Ethan?” he asked, fortunately conscious but very hurt and dazed. “Where—where’s Malina?”

“She’s taking care of it,” Ethan replied, risking a glance back at Malina. She had already changed the watch into a sundial, and was using one hand to try and turn the dial while using the other to use magic to keep the criosphinx at bay. “Don’t look.”

“Wha—?” Andrew asked, still clearly very out of it. He craned his neck to try and see what was going on.”

“I said don’t look!” Ethan shouted as he pushed Andrew’s head back down to the sand. He ducked his own head down, trying to curl his body around Andrew’s face to ensure that the god didn’t look.

And just in time, too—just as he did that, the area around them was suddenly filled with a blinding white light. Ethan shut his eyes as the light overtook him and Andrew. The criosphinx let out a final cry of anguish, and then the light faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler, anybody? I particularly enjoyed writing this chapter, as short as it was, because I particularly enjoy writing fight scenes. Next chapter, be warned, will also be a bit of filler, but will further the plot as well. So like, stuff will happen, but not a whole bunch of stuff, ya feel? I hope that makes sense. 
> 
> But regardless. I don't have a ton to say about this chapter, so the new pronunciation for this chapter is:  
> Criosphinx = CREE-oh-sphinx (fairly simple)
> 
> And the song is "Our Solemn Hour" by Within Temptation. From my understanding, this is a bit of a religious song, but the song title fit the theme of the chapter so I went with it. Religious songs aren't my thing, but if they're yours, then by all means, check it out. 
> 
> That's about it from me for now. Catch you guys next time!


	25. Split Up

“The three of you took quite a beating out there,” Thoth said as he placed the final bandage over Ethan’s shoulder wound. “I must apologize, really. I had no idea there would be a criosphinx.”

“But you did know there’d be something that wasn’t a regular demon,” Malina snapped at him from where she was sitting next to the window, gazing out over the desert where they had just battled Apep’s latest army. She turned back towards Thoth. “And you didn’t think to warn us?”

Thoth shrugged. “It’s usually a uraeus.”

“Uraeus?” Ethan asked quizzically.

“Giant snake,” Andrew explained from his seat next to Malina. He repositioned the ice pack on his head with a grimace. “Used to be used as a protector of Ra and the pharaohs, now is a very mean and deadly race of serpents. One bite will kill you instantly.”

“Even if it had been a uraeus, a warning still would have been nice,” Malina retorted. Ethan had to agree.

Thoth shrugged again. “Sorry, but I’d assumed you all could handle a uraeus. It’s not a difficult beast to overcome, seeing as how slow-moving it is. If I had known it would be a criosphinx this time around, however, you can rest assured I would have warned you.”

“Yeah, I’m real assured,” Malina grumbled, looking back out over the desert.

“There,” Thoth said triumphantly, slathering one last handful of salve over Ethan’s bandages. “That should hold, and with any luck, you’ll be healed within the week.”

“Thanks,” Ethan muttered, grabbing his shirt and struggling to slip it back on. He noticed Andrew looking at him, but he gave the god a reassuring smile to let him know that he didn’t need any help. “You know, Thoth, I’m still not sure why you can’t just heal this.”

“I told you, parasite demon bites are difficult to cure with magical remedies,” Thoth explained, screwing the cap back onto his jar of thick, green, paste-looking salve. “This salve is the best that I have, and even then, it isn’t instantaneous.”

“So much for magic making anything possible,” was Ethan’s response. Despite the salve and the bandages that Thoth had put on it, the bite still hurt like hell. Despite the slight adrenaline rush Ethan was still feeling at having fought an entire army of Egyptian demons (something he’d never imagined he ever could have done), he sort of wished he hadn’t done it. The pain he felt in his shoulder was unreal, but he decided to stay quiet about it for the time being. He supposed it would be healed soon enough, just like Thoth said it would. 

Thoth chuckled. “Yes, well, perhaps that was a bit too broad a statement.”

“Look, can we be finished with the pleasantries? Please?” Malina groaned. She stood up and marched over to Thoth. “I’ve been trying really hard not to upset you because I don’t wanna disturb this Zen thing you’ve got going on, but please, we’ve spent far too long here as it is. We need to get going.” She folded her arms across her chest. “So if you could give us the information we came here for, that’d be dandy.”

Thoth straightened his back and cleared his throat at her. “Fiery as ever, I see.”

“You bet,” Malina shot back. “I used up one of my four sundial charges on that criosphinx out there. So you best believe I’m gonna get what I came here for.”

“Well, as it happens, I did translate the Lexicon for you, though I doubt you’ll like what it has to say,” Thoth retorted, turning away from Malina and walking over to the table Ethan had been sitting on. “Your quest is about to get a bit more difficult.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Andrew sighed.

Thoth picked up a notebook that had scribbles and symbols all over it. He must have caught Ethan staring at it, because the god smile and said, “It’s my own special brand of shorthand. Don’t even try to decipher it, because you never could.”

“Good to know.”

“Look, can you just tell us already?” Malina whined. “I’m itching to get back out there.”

“Patience, Malina,” Thoth warned. “You of all people know what it’s like to be on my bad side.”

“There’s no battle axes nearby,” she muttered in response. “I doubt you could do much.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that,” Thoth replied haughtily. Then he straightened out the notebook in his hands and said: “But at any rate, you may be disappointed to find that not only has your quest become more difficult, but it has also become longer. And unfortunately, time is not on your side,” he added, glancing up at Ethan.

“Would you just get to the point?” Ethan asked, still trying to mentally numb out the pain in his shoulder. He was starting to get irritated by Thoth’s stalling, too.

Thoth huffed. “Fine then.” He gestured at Andrew’s knapsack, which was lying next to where Andrew was still sitting. Andrew himself looked like he was unconscious, with the ice pack lying across his head. “Hecate gave you a key, correct? Shiny, octagonal? You have it with you in there?”

“Yes, sir,” Andrew piped up weakly. So he wasn’t unconscious; just probably in a lot of pain. Ethan could understand that.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to heal you?” Thoth asked, sounding concerned. “It’s no trouble at all, really.”

“No, thank you,” Andrew replied, still not opening his eyes or moving. “I don’t really feel like moving and this gives me an excuse.” Malina snorted with laughter. “I’ll take things naturally this time.”

Thoth sighed. “Have it your way, then.”

“The key, Thoth,” Ethan pressed.

“Ah, yes, right,” the god said, snapping back to attention and looking back down at his shorthand. “The key. Well, as it turns out, that key is not everything you need. There are three other pieces to the puzzle.”

Malina rolled her eyes and made a dramatic show of groaning. Thoth ignored her and continued: “The ruby ring, according to the Lexicon, is entombed in a chamber that lies deep beneath the Great Pyramid of Giza. And although the key Hecate gave you is good for opening a door, there are two doors. The key will open the inner door that leads directly into the chamber. But to open the outer door, three trials must be performed.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Ethan reasoned. “What are the trials?”

Thoth chuckled. “Yes, it doesn’t sound so bad, but the trials themselves are quite difficult, the first of which being that one must bathe in hydra’s blood.”

“Oh, my gods,” Malina exclaimed, looking and sounding disgusted. “Slaying a hydra in the first place is hard enough, but then having to bathe in its blood?”

Thoth shrugged. “It’s like I said, these trials will not be easy. And that’s just the first. The second is to acquire the horn of a karkadann.”

“What the hell is a karkadann?” Ethan asked, confused.

“A mythical rhinoceros-like beast from Arabian mythology,” Andrew spoke up. “It should be added, however, that the karkadanns went extinct a few hundred years ago.”

Thoth shrugged again. “Well, someone’s gotta have a horn. Find it.” He looked back down at his notebook and continued: “And the third and final trial is to obtain five scales from a single marmennill.”

She must have seen Ethan opening his mouth to ask, because Malina cut him off: “A marmennill is a merman from Norse mythology that can see and interpret the future. They live in Vanaheim, one of the nine worlds.”

“Thanks.”

“And they know their scales have magical properties, and won’t be very willing to give up even one, let alone five,” she continued, glaring at Thoth. “What the hell kind of trials are these? They’re near-impossible.”

“Near-impossible,” Thoth parroted. “But not impossible. You can do them, but it will be very difficult, and you don’t have a lot of time to do it.”

“How much time do we have?” Andrew asked, finally removing the ice pack and standing up. He was a bit wobbly, but seemed fine.

Thoth sighed. “Well, there is a certain date on which the planets are completely aligned at the same time that a solar eclipse occurs. That is the date on which the trials must be completed by if you are to have any hope at opening the door.”

“And let me guess,” Malina said angrily. “That date’s real damn soon.”

“It comes in a week,” Thoth confirmed. “And if you miss it, it won’t return again for a thousand years.”

“Well, that’s just great!” Malina cried, throwing up her hands. “How the hell are we supposed to do all that in a week?”

“We could split up the work,” Ethan suggested quietly.

“What?” Andrew asked, coming over to them. “Split up the work? No, Ethan, I’m sorry, but that’s—”

“A good idea,” Thoth finished. 

“Yeah,” Ethan resumed eagerly, suddenly confident now that Thoth was backing him up. “Think about it. Three trials, three of us. We’d never have enough time to do all three of them together in a week. If we split it up, then maybe we can get it done.”

“It’s worth it to consider,” Thoth emphasized. “The boy is right, if you insist on doing these trials together, you’ll never complete them in time. Splitting the work is the only viable option here.”

“Okay,” Malina agreed. “Let’s do it.”

“Malina,” Andrew said, sounding shocked. “You can’t be considering this. We can’t send Ethan off alone, it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s a risk we have to take,” Malina shot back. “Do you wanna find this ring or not? Because it’s looking like this is the only way.”

Andrew fell silent for a few moments. Then, after a long and dramatic sigh, he said, “Okay. Fine. So who does what?”

“I think you should go get the karkadann horn,” Malina said. “You’re more of a diplomat than me or Ethan. If you end up needing to charm someone out of a rare and prized possession like that, I think you could do it well.”

Andrew nodded. “Sounds good.”

“And you should go get the marmennill scales,” Ethan said to Malina. “You said they lived in Vanaheim, and despite the fact that I can take care of myself, I don’t think I’m ready to go world-hopping just yet.”

Malina nodded at him. “I agree.”

“Wait,” Andrew said, looking over at Ethan. “That leaves you to have to slay the hydra.”

“Andrew—” Ethan began.

“No,” the god said firmly. “I won’t let you do it. If sending you off of your own is dangerous, then sending you off to battle a hydra is even more so. You can’t do it.”

“Actually, he can, with a little help,” Thoth spoke up. He stepped away from their group and darted behind a bookshelf. He reappeared a few seconds later rummaging through a small box. He dug through the many things inside the box for a few moments before pulling out a coin. “Here,” he said, handing the coin to Ethan.

“What’s this?” Ethan asked, examining the coin. On one side was a skull, and on the other, a spear. 

“A denarius,” Thoth explained. “Ancient Roman currency. The easiest place to find a hydra these days is in Greece, more specifically, Athens. When you arrive there, find any fountain, and toss this coin in. A friend of mine will show up to help you. He owes me a favor, so just mention my name and he’ll be bound to help you slay the hydra.”

“I still don’t like this,” Andrew said, concerned.

“I’ll have help, Andrew,” Ethan assured him, pocketing the coin. “I’ll be okay.” He turned back towards Thoth. “And what happens after I kill it? I have to bathe in its blood, right?”

Thoth nodded. “The blood has to still be on your body, though, when you present yourself to the door at Giza. Otherwise it won’t recognize that you’ve completed that trial.” He grimaced at Ethan. “So if you slay the hydra quickly, you’ll want to wait until the day of to actually do the bathing.”

Ethan grimaced right back. “Okay. Got it.” The thought of having to bathe in a tub full of hydra blood wasn’t exactly appealing to Ethan, but hey, if that was what it took to save the world, then he was more than willing to do it.

“Ethan, are you sure?” Andrew asked.

“He’s sure,” Malina cut in, sounding annoyed. “Stop mothering him, Andrew. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.” She looked around at all of them. “And at any rate, we can’t really afford to waste any more time sitting around here discussing it. We should all get going.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Thoth said. He looked around at the three of them. “So you all know where you’re going, correct?”

“Saudi Arabia."

“Asgard, then Vanaheim."

“Athens."

“Good then,” Thoth said, clapping his hands together. “Then you should all portal out posthaste.” He began to walk away. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go use the bathroom now, and I’d prefer if you were gone by the time I got back. I do value my solitude.”

And with that, Thoth was gone, and it was just the three of them. “So I guess we should get going, then,” Malina said. She hugged Ethan, and then Andrew, saying, “Good luck, to both of you.” Then she turned away and, with a wave of her hand, created a portal and jumped through.

After she was gone, Ethan suddenly found himself being enveloped in a bear hug from Andrew. “Stay safe, okay? Hydras are nasty creatures, don’t go in half-cocked without Thoth’s friend and a plan.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Ethan assured him, pulling away. “I’ll be okay. We’ll all complete our missions, and then meet back at Giza in a week.” He blinked and turned towards where Malina had disappeared. “Do you think she knows that?”

Andrew chuckled. “I’m sure she does. And if not, then we can blame her for dooming the world.” He laughed at his own joke and then, after a final goodbye to Ethan, opened up a portal and jumped through.

Ethan tried to find the humor in Andrew’s joke, really, he did. But what it had really done was remind Ethan that he was on his own now, and if he failed, then the destruction of the entire world was on him. 

He swallowed hard as he opened up the portal. He would have to make sure he didn’t fail, then.

Patting his pocket and making sure that the denarius was still there, he took a deep breath and jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another relatively short chapter, but get excited! We're breaking into the home stretch here, people! The gang has to split up for now in order to achieve their ends, but once they have everything they need, they'll finally be able to get to the first ring. Things are officially beginning to draw to a close...for this leg of the quest. Don't worry, this adventure is still far from over. 
> 
> I don't believe there are any new pronunciations this chapter, so the song is "Split Up" by Twisted Insane.


	26. Desert Star

Honestly, Andrew wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected from Saudi Arabia beyond hot, arid, and sandy. 

He’d landed in the ruins of an ancient city that he was later told was called Dūmat Al-Jandal, or as it was known back in the time of its heyday, Adumatu. Truth be told, he would have preferred he’d land in one of the more populated cities of Saudi Arabia, or even in one of the cities with any population at all. But that was his fault, really, for not specifying; if you gave a general place, like Russia, instead of a specific place, like Moscow, then you were going to land somewhere in Russia. And chances were it wouldn’t be somewhere you wanted.

Andrew took a few moments to get his bearings before he started exploring. As he wandered through the ruins of the city, trying to find his way out and into some sort of still-existing civilization, he thought about how in all the hells he was gonna get the horn of a beast that had gone extinct hundreds of years ago.

He wracked his brain to try and think of someone who would have one. The merchant gods, Hermes and Mercury, were the most likely, since they liked to trade rare and valuable objects. But their trades also often resulted in impossible favors, and Andrew didn’t need to be thrust into a lengthy side-quest when he only had a week to acquire the horn. 

There was Ek Chuaj, the Mayan god of merchants; he was less tricky, and more up-front about his deals. But his name translated to “black war chief” and his personality definitely fit the name. Frankly, Ek Chuaj scared the shit out of Andrew. He would try to avoid the guy if he could.

And beyond those three, he couldn’t think of any other trader gods. So that ruled out that option. As Andrew stepped over the crumbled outer wall of the city, he tried to think of who else could possibly have a karkadann horn. There were the merchant mortals, sure; Elias Offermann was one of the more well-known mortals who liked to trade in godly objects, and his selection was generally regarded as the widest. 

But Elias Offermann was also a bit of an asshole. And seeing as how Elias was one of the few mortal traders who hadn’t achieved immortality, it was unlikely Elias had been alive while the karkadanns had lived, so he probably hadn’t managed to get one. A karkadann horn was more than likely one of the only things Elias Offermann didn’t have. And Andrew didn’t really know the other mortal merchants, except maybe for Angela Price, but she hated him, so that plan sort of fell through. Although to be honest, she had no real reason to hate Andrew; it wasn’t necessarily his fault that her pet unicorn had died while he was housesitting for her. The beast had been old, it was pure coincidence. 

He looked around the desert that surrounded him and sighed. Finding a karkadann horn was already proving to be harder than he’d anticipated, and he’d anticipated it to be pretty difficult. He figured he’d have to get a hotel room or something in a city somewhere. But he wanted one of the nicer Arabic cities, with a quality nightlife, in case his fruitless daytime searches got him down. 

The only problem was, he didn’t know a whole lot about Saudi Arabia, or which Arabic cities were the ones with good nightlives. He figured he could probably ask an Arabic god, but which one to ask?

It was then that the potential solution to his problem hit him like a cannonball. Who would be more likely to have preserved the horn of a rare and sacred Arabic species right before it went extinct, than an Arabic deity? Surely some Arabic god had a karkadann horn and was willing to momentarily part with it. If it meant saving the known universe from Tiamat, Andrew was sure he could get someone to agree to it.

He began thinking about which god would be most likely to have one. Haubas, maybe, but nobody had seen him in centuries. He’d started communicating exclusively through his oracle, and Andrew had accidentally scorned the oracle back in the 1500’s by not showing up to a date with her that he’d apparently agreed to (to be fair, she had been extremely vague in asking him out; he hadn’t even known it was a date). So she probably wouldn’t even let him talk to Haubas.

There was Ta’lab, but he was a moon deity and a bit of a scatterbrain. Andrew would have to wait until the moon was out, and what with all the clouds in the sky, that wasn’t likely to happen that night. And Andrew didn’t really want to wait an entire day or more just to summon a god that probably didn’t even remember what a karkadann was.

But then there was Azizos. The more Andrew thought about it, the more plausible the idea was. Azizos was the god of the morning star, and an extremely sentimental man. Azizos spent most of his days watching over the Arabian Desert, and had almost definitely gotten attached to the karkadanns at one point. If there had been a threat of extinction, he would have taken something as a preservation of their memory. 

Azizos seemed like Andrew’s best bet, but he would have to wait until the dawn. The morning star didn’t need to visible—which was fortunate—but he would still have to wait the night out. So he sighed, turned on his heels, and marched back into the ruins of Dūmat Al-Jandal. He would have to find a mostly-intact room to spend the night in.

Could he have just portaled to any old Arabic city? Sure. But in portals, the specifics were necessary, down to the letter. If he willed himself off to “an Arabic city,” he was liable to get one that would have him robbed in seconds. And since he was carrying precious cargo—he nudged against the octagonal key in his knapsack, just to make sure it was in fact still there—he couldn’t take that risk. 

Probably for the first time in the history of ever, the desert was safer.

***

Andrew didn’t sleep a wink that night.

It was true what they said about the desert; days hotter than hell, nights colder than the Arctic. The bone-chilling nighttime breeze kept him awake, and no matter what kind of blanket he summoned to keep him warm, nothing worked well enough. So he sat there, huddled up for warmth against a crumbling wall, shivering the night away.

When the dawn finally broke, and the sun started creeping over the horizon, Andrew couldn’t have been happier. Maybe it was him being desperate for warmth again, but he could already feel the sun’s rays breaking through the freezing air. He stood up and rushed outside, quickly summoning to his side the things he needed to summon an Arabic god: red sand, the leg bone of desert kangaroo rat, and three petals from a desert lily. Summoning a lighter (magic really was useful sometimes), Andrew wrapped the leg bone in the petals, sprinkled the sand over them, and then set the whole thing on fire. Once it was sufficiently burning, Andrew got to his knees, closed his eyes, and said, “Najmat alssabah, wa'ana aistidea' 'iilayk.”

Within moments, a shining golden-brown light erupted in front of Andrew. The sand, bones, and petals all disappeared, sucked into the light. Andrew shielded his eyes against the brightness. Once it died down, he lowered his hand and saw the god that the light had left in its place: Azizos, god of the morning star.

Clothed in a regal, billowing, golden thobe, Azizos stood before Andrew with his chocolate-brown skin reflecting the rays of the rising sun. The god reached out a hand to Andrew, smiling warmly, and Andrew accepted the help, rising to his feet.

“Anshar,” Azizos greeted him, his smile unwavering. “What brings you here to Adumatu?”

“Hello, Azizos,” Andrew said in return. Azizos didn’t seem to want to waste time exchanging pleasantries, so Andrew just cut to the chase. “I’m here in search of something.”

Azizos arched a perfectly-trimmed eyebrow. “Oh? In search of what?”

Andrew gulped. Truth be told, he’d heard about Azizos, but had never actually met the god. He hadn’t quite expected him to be so good-looking. Quite frankly, it made him a little nervous. “Um—well—you see—there’s this place in Giza—”

Azizos held up a hand to silence Andrew. “Stop. Look at you, bumbling over your words like a love-struck child.” Andrew had to admit, that was fairly spot-on. “You have been out here in the desert, awake and alone, all night.” He opened his arms in a warm, inviting gesture, and Andrew felt himself pale. “Come here. I will warm you.”

“Oh, no, that’s not really—”

“Oh come now, I am the morning star, I have plenty of warmth to spare,” Azizos argued. “I insist.”

Seeing no other option and not really wanting to make the god mad (and also kind of wanting to do it), Andrew slowly approached Azizos and hugged him. Azizos hugged him back, squeezing Andrew tight and pulling him close. It took every mental facet Andrew had to keep a certain issue from arising.

“There,” Azizos said, finally pulling away after about a minute of hugging. “Do you feel warmed up now?”

As a matter of fact, he did, but that was probably just the anxiety. “Y—yes. Um, thank you very much, Azizos,” Andrew stuttered.

Azizos nodded in return. “Now, you were telling what it was that you were in search of?”

“Y—yes, I was,” Andrew said, forcing himself to get back on track with the mission. It didn’t matter one bit how attractive Azizos was—even if he happened to be very much so. Andrew opened up his knapsack, and pulled out the octagonal key. “This was given to my companions and me by Hecate. It’s to be used to open an interior door in a chamber hidden within the Great Pyramid at Giza. But the only problem is, there’s an exterior door as well, that requires more than just a key to be opened.”

Andrew paused to see if Azizos had anything to interject with. When he didn’t, Andrew continued: “So my group and I split up to find the objects we need to open the exterior door.”

“Pray tell, what are these objects?” Azizos asked.

Oh, so now he had something to say. As if Andrew wasn’t getting to that. “Well, the first is more of an action than an object—one must bathe in hydra’s blood, and then present that blood to the door.”

“Oh, dear,” Azizos grimaced.

“And the second is to obtain five scales from a marmennill.”

“Quite difficult,” Azizos mused.

Andrew was getting a bit irritated now. But he had to remain civil. “And the third object is why I have come here to Saudi Arabia. I thought maybe you might have it.”

“Well, if I do, I am most happy to lend it to you so that you may complete your task,” Azizos offered. “You would return it, yes?”

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” Granted, there was the possibility of the karkadann horn exploding in the process—he didn’t know what exactly would happen once they got to the door—but he figured they could deal with that later.

“Very well then. What is it that you need?”

“Well, it’s about the karkadanns—”

“The karkadanns!” Azizos interrupted, a huge, goofy grin splitting across his face. “Oh, my precious karkadanns! It pleases me even to think about them. I love them so.”

Andrew paused, waiting to see if Azizos actually had anything important going with that. When nothing else came, Andrew sighed internally and continued: “—and I need…” He trailed off when he realized that Azizos wasn’t even listening. The god was just staring off into the space, that grin still on his face, probably thinking about his karkadanns.

Suddenly, it clicked. “Azizos?” Andrew said, waving his hands in front of the god’s face to get his attention. “Azizos?”

Azizos blinked to attention as he returned to reality. “Oh, yes, sorry. I was thinking about how much I love my karkadanns.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Okay, now Andrew was really irritated. “But you say you ‘love’ them? As in, present tense? I thought they went extinct.”

Something changed in Azizos’s demeanor; his eyes widened, and he tensed up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said nervously, clearly backpedaling. “The karkadanns are extinct. Have been for centuries.”

“You’re hiding something,” Andrew accused. It was easy to put two and two together. “They’re not really extinct, are they?”

Gods forbid anyone ever entrust Azizos with an important secret, because that accusation alone was enough to break the god. “Okay, fine! No, they are not extinct. Back when they were about to go extinct, I—I saved them.”

“What do you mean you saved them? Nobody’s seen them in centuries.”

“Because I moved them to a safe location where no one will ever find them,” Azizos retorted.

“Where are they?”

“In a secret meadow in the Arabian Desert.” Azizos’s eyes widened again when he realized what he’d just said. “Damn! You and your charms, Anshar.”

Andrew didn’t really want to press on what that meant. “Why keep them hidden? Do you realize how upset people were when the karkadanns went extinct?”

“Upset because they could no longer hunt them!” Azizos exclaimed. “I hid my precious beasts because too many—mortals and gods alike—were hunting them for their skins. Karkadann skins have magical properties, you know. A cloak made of karkadann skin can turn one invisible, or alter their appearance, or—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Andrew interrupted, cutting Azizos off. “Listen, Azizos, I’m sorry to demand this of you, really, I am, but I need to see the karkadanns immediately. Can you do that for me? Can you take me to this meadow?”

Azizos scrunched up his face, thinking it over. “I’m unsure of whether I should trust you,” he said, hesitating with his words. “How can I know that your motives are true?”

“I can promise you, the karkadanns will not be harmed,” Andrew swore. And he meant it. The thing about karkadanns was that their horns were even more valuable than their skins, because their horns produced a liquid that was an antidote to all poisons. And what was even better, the removal of a horn from a karkadann was virtually painless, because they grew back naturally. Surely Azizos would understand that.

Azizos hesitated again, weighing his options. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the god sighed and relented. “Very well,” he said, waving his hand and opening a portal in the air next to them. “Follow me through here, and you will find the karkadanns. But I will hold you to your promise, Anshar.”

“I swear to you, it will not be broken.” Andrew couldn’t believe his luck. Here he’d been, worried to death that he wouldn’t be able to find a horn, when now he was on his way to a whole colony of actual, living karkadanns. He was quite unable to hide his giddiness.

Azizos stepped through the portal, and Andrew practically dove in right after him.

***

Andrew couldn’t believe his eyes.

Stretched out as far as the eye could see, in all directions except backward (because he and Azizos stood on a dune at the edge of the meadow), grassy plains replaced the sand of the Arabian Desert. Little pools dotted the grass, and lush trees meant for shade were even more abundant. Shrubbery filled with little berries and fruits for the omnivorous beasts were scattered in patches all around the meadow. And milling about all of this was what had to be hundreds, maybe a few thousand, karkadanns. All of them very much alive and well.

“Oh my gods,” Andrew breathed as he looked around, stunned that Azizos had managed to pull this off. “There’s so many.”

Azizos puffed out his chest in pride. “Yes, well, back when I first decided to save the karkadanns, there were only seven left. I used a little bit of magic to create some others, but for the most part I left the repopulation up to nature.” He spread his hands wide. “And look at where we are now!” He clapped his hands back together and squealed a bit, his expression giddy. “Oh, I just love them! They’re a testament to my hard work and ability to save an entire species!”

“How have you kept them secret for so long?”

“Well, I enlisted El—he’s the god of the desert, you know—to change the sand to grass. Then I created the lakes and the trees and the fruit bushes,” Azizos explained. “Then I enhanced Ningirama’s Wall around this particular area to shield my children from any prying eyes, god or man.”

“Incredible,” Andrew whispered, more to himself than Azizos.

“Isn’t it?” he said proudly.

“Thank you so much, Azizos,” Andrew said, gripping his knapsack and beginning to start down the dune. “You’ve done the world a great service. This will be perfect.”

There was silence for a few moments. Then: “Wait.” 

Andrew, already halfway down the dune, turned. “What?”

“What exactly is it that you need from the karkadanns?” Azizos asked suspiciously. “You never actually told me. Is it the skins? You don’t need the skins, do you?” he added with a threatening tone.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Andrew assured him. “I just need a horn. Nice and simple.”

Azizos blinked a few times. His response came in stilted and measured tones, which made Andrew nervous. “Just a horn? Nice and simple?” he repeated.

Andrew nodded hesitantly, suddenly unsure of whether or not he should have said that. “Is there an issue?”

“An issue?” Azizos suddenly shouted. “Of course there’s an issue! I trust you to come here, to come visit my precious karkadanns, and your ulterior motive the entire time is to rip one of their precious horns from their precious heads?”

Andrew turned up in his palms in defense. “Azizos, listen, it’s no big deal, horn removal doesn’t even hurt, and they grow back, you know that—”

“No big deal?!”Azizos screamed. “You think it’s no big deal to remove the most valuable and beautiful part of a karkadann’s very essence? Every time some traveler took one of their horns back in olden days, I would have to listen to their mournful cries under the moon every single night until it finally grew back!”

“Azizos—”

“And I swore, no more!” Azizos shouted, cutting Andrew step and taking a threatening step forward. “No more would they have to suffer the loss of having their horns taken from them! I don’t care what it’s for! I don’t care why you need it! You shall not have it!”

This was looking bad. It was beginning to look like fighting was Andrew’s only way out of this. Inwardly regretting having to ruin such a perfect face (which a flaky and annoying guy like Azizos frankly didn’t deserve), Andrew pulled his mechanical pencil from his knapsack and pushed the lead button. The pencil grew into a gleaming staff in his hands.

“Don’t you dare!” Azizos shouted at him, thrusting his hands forward. Andrew felt a powerful gust of air magic slam into him, knocking the wind out of him—no pun intended—as he tumbled head over heel further down the dune.

“El!” he heard Azizos cry out. “This heathen is trying to desecrate our sacred karkadanns! Get rid of him at once!”

Andrew barely had time to react before the sand around him suddenly started to wrap around him and try to pull him under. It took him a moment to realize what was going on, but within a few seconds he had it: Azizos had called upon his friend El, Arabic god of the desert, to dispose of Andrew. And that wouldn’t do.

So, despite hating having to create general portals to places that were really big—like the Arabian Desert—Andrew had no other choice. He would have to figure out the karkadann situation later. He shut his eyes tight, summoned the portal beneath him, and felt himself slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the magic of sidequests. Something always goes wrong, and they're never as easy as you think. And now that Andrew's fucked up monumentally, his quest just got a whole lot harder. I wonder if Malina and Ethan are faring any better...?
> 
> But anyway, I don't have a lot to say about this chapter; it's fairly straightforward. Although I'm having some fun introducing gods from pantheons who aren't from the "mainstream pantheons" like Greek, Roman, Norse, or Egyptian. The Arabic pantheon is criminally neglected, and Azizos is a good start to fix that. 
> 
> Speaking of:  
> Azizos = Ah-ZEE-zohs
> 
> And the song is "Desert Star" by Shakira. Hope you guys enjoyed this update, and I'll catch you next time!


	27. Don't Shoot, Let's Talk

For the second time in a shorter time than she particularly cared for, Malina found herself falling from the high-arched ceiling of the Room of Doors in Asgard. She had to take a moment while she was plummeting downwards to certain doom to reflect on why in all the hells every single portal she made into Asgard—and not anybody else, just her—ended up on the ceiling instead of on the floor. Odin’s wife Frigg couldn’t possibly still have been angry at her, right? Malina had apologized for the whole Baldr fiasco centuries ago; and anyway, it was mostly Loki’s fault. How was Malina supposed to know what the mistletoe spear he’d requested was to be used for?

Malina harnessed the light around her to slow her fall, and within seconds she was gently landing in a sitting position on the floor. Standing up, she started making her way over to the door that led to the Seven Doors. There were a lot of doors in Asgard, she suddenly realized. What was with the Norse and doors? Portals worked just fine, and that was basically all they were, anyway.

“I find it’s because the Vikings liked to have something to smash when they entered houses,” a thin male voice spoke up from behind her. “It’s sort of like, ‘Hello, we’re here to plunder and pillage, mind if we shatter your doorframe first?’”

Malina whipped around, startled, to see none other than the trickster god Loki—speak of the devil—leaning against the statue of Odin and Freyja, casually inspecting his nails as he spoke. He wore a long, royal-blue cloak that opened in the front and stretched down to his knees. A dark green chain mail shirt, as well as leather brown pants, covered up his front (fortunately). Sheathed in his belt on either side were his trusty jagged daggers that he was oh so infamous for, and on his head, covering up his greasy black hair, he wore—oddly—a dark brown jester’s cap, only without the little bells.

“Vikings are nasty creatures, I can assure you,” Loki continued, still not looking at Malina. “If you ever have the opportunity to travel through time, which I suspect you one day will—” he glanced up at Malina with a smirk when he said that “—then I suggest you steer clear of the Vikings. Brutish and violent. Frankly, I hated ever having to associate with them, but then again, they hated me too. So it didn’t come up much.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Malina deadpanned, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re the pinnacle of kindness, Loki. They must have been real assholes not to worship the ground you walked on.”

“Right?” Loki returned, clearly picking up on the sarcasm but choosing not to address it. He began walking towards Malina, absentmindedly—or maybe mindedly—unsheathing one of his daggers and twirling it in his hand as he continued. “But anyway, you didn’t come here to talk to me about the Vikings.”

“I didn’t come here to talk to you at all,” Malina shot back. “I came here to—”

“Yes, yes, to go retrieve five Marmennill scales so you can use them for your little quest to find the ruby ring,” Loki finished for her, sounding disinterested. “You have a week. You’ll still make it to Giza if you sit and talk for a few minutes. I promise.”

Malina felt herself pale. “How did you know all that?”

Loki shrugged as he came to a stop in front of her. “I make it my business to know things,” he replied as he sheathed his dagger.

“You’re not working for Tiamat, are you?” Malina asked suspiciously.

Loki chuckled. “As if I’d tell you if I was.” Malina had to give him that one. “But, I’ll have you know, I am not. Nor am I working for your little team of mortals—what is it, the Chevaliers du Ciel or something?”

“You know damn well what it is.”

“Well, as it happens, I haven’t taken a side yet,” Loki continued, ignoring her comment. “Nor do I really expect to. Not definitively, anyway. I may help either side, here and there, but only if it ultimately benefits me. I play for myself, you know.”

“Like you always have,” Malina noted.

“Precisely!” Loki exclaimed, a mischievous smirk splitting across his face. “And as it happens, I’m here to give your side a little push in the right direction.”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Malina retorted. “We don’t need any help from the likes of you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Too bad, I am.” Malina turned on her heels to walk away—only to come face to face with Loki again.

“Too bad, indeed,” he said, that stupid smirk still on his face.

Malina realized that she wasn’t getting out of here without talking to him, so she decided to just suck it up and do it. She just hoped that, for his sake, whatever he had to say was worth it. 

“Why do you want to help me?” Malina asked. “What do you have to gain from it?”

Loki shrugged. “I don’t like being indebted to others.”

Malina arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Well, if I owe someone a debt, it tends to nag away at me until I pay it off,” Loki explained. “Because I am nothing if not honorable, my dear.”

“I’m sure,” Malina replied flatly.

“And as it happens, I owe you very much,” Loki continued. “You remember our dirty little history, right? That whole thing with the mistletoe spear, and with Baldr, and how Frigg refuses to forgive you for fashioning for me the weapon that would ultimately claim the life of her son—”

Malina didn’t let him finish. Crying out in anger, she threw herself up against him, pushing him backwards until he was up against the wall. She ripped one of his daggers from his belt and held it to his throat. “Don’t you ever even think about insinuating that that was in any way my fault,” she seethed. “Because it wasn’t and you damn well know it.”

Loki snickered. “Now, now, Malina, calm yourself.”

“Why should I?” Malina asked, pressing the blade even closer to him. “Anything you tell me will probably be a lie, anyway.”

“Because if you kill me—or try to and fail, because let’s be honest with ourselves for a moment, there’s no way you’ll succeed—then there won’t be any prophecy.”

That made Malina hesitate. “What prophecy?”

“Get this accursed dagger off of my throat and I’ll tell you,” he growled.

Malina was about to do as he said, when something suddenly occurred to her. “Wait…this isn’t the dagger, is it?”

“Whatever could you mean?” Loki asked, a hint of irritability seeping into his tone.

“The dagger,” Malina repeated. “The one that Sindri and Brokkr made with the extra metal from Mjolnir. The only dagger in all the worlds that can kill you. Everyone knows about it. People have searched for it for eons on end, but it’s never been found. Is that because you have it?”

Loki scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now let me go before you make me angry enough to withhold my information from you.”

Now it was Malina’s turn to smirk at him. He didn’t have to vocally admit it. She knew—she could tell by the way he was acting. It made sense, really; if there was only one dagger in all the worlds that could kill Malina, she would make an exact duplicate and keep both with her at all times, too. It vaguely unsettled her how alike she and Loki thought. 

But, for the time being, she was willing to let it go. That was information she knew she had to file away for future reference. So now that she had it, she dropped the dagger and stepped back. Loki casually picked the dagger back up and sheathed it as if nothing was wrong. But Malina could see how his fingers were trembling ever so slightly.

“Now,” Loki began, “let’s get down to business—to defeat chaos.”

“Yes, let’s,” Malina responded. “You mentioned a prophecy?”

“Well, not one from me, specifically,” he answered. “And not one concerning you. But the marmennills have recently unearthed a prophecy that very much interests me. And since you’re on your way to see them, I figured, eye for eye?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I want the prophecy they found about me,” Loki said irritably, “and I have information about Tiamat that I know you’ll want. Let’s make a trade.” He held out his hand.

Malina took a few moments to think it over. Making a deal with Loki was always dangerous, because he almost always double crossed you. But oddly enough, she trusted him on this one. She took his hand and shook it. “Deal.”

Loki’s face split into yet another mischievous grin. “Excellent. So here are the terms.” He took a step back and started walking around Malina to other side as he spoke. She followed him as he went. “Once you obtain the scales—because obviously your quest comes first, my dear—you are to go directly to the Elder Marmennill. Mention my name and he’ll give you the prophecy. You are then to return directly to this room, where I will be waiting. You will then give me the prophecy and be on your merry way.”

He stopped once he reached her other side and turned back towards her. “Sound agreeable?”

Malina nodded. “Sure.”

“Great. Oh, and one other thing—you are, under no circumstances, to read the prophecy. At all. It contains vital information that are for my eyes and my eyes only. Do you understand?” he added, cocking his head.

Malina nodded again. “I understand. And when I give you your prophecy, you give me the information what I want?”

Loki bowed slightly. “That’s the deal.”

Malina held out her hand again. “Shake on it.”

Loki smirked condescendingly, but he did it. “There. Happy now?”

“Very,” Malina answered, turning to go. She was done with Loki, and wanted to be on her way to Vanaheim. 

She was halfway through the door that led to the Seven Doors when she heard Loki call after her, “And remember, whatever you do, do not read that prophecy! If you do, you won’t get your information!”

Malina bristled at that. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up, asshole,” she called back as the door swung shut behind her. 

She made her way down the stairs, silently cursing Loki for making this so difficult. This was a test, it had to be; he was expecting her to fail by reading the prophecy out of curiosity. Well, she was no pushover. If not reading the prophecy was what got her her information, then the prophecy would go unread.

Although, she wondered as she stepped through the door that led to Vanaheim, what the hell could have been so important to a god who knew everything like Loki did?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki! Loki's always been a favorite gray character of mine from Norse mythology, so it was definitely a lot of fun to write this scene between him and Malina. If you haven't noticed yet, Malina's found herself a part of most, if not all of, the major stories from various mythologies that we know about, lol. She really gets around. 
> 
> But anyway! Andrew's in a pickle, and Malina's setting out into Vanaheim. How's Ethan doing, I wonder...?
> 
> If you didn't already know how to pronounce it: Loki = LOW-key
> 
> And the song is "Don't Shoot, Let's Talk" by Blue Miller. Catch you guys next time!


	28. Convincing People

Never, never, in Ethan’s entire life, had he ever expected to visit a place as beautiful and wondrous as Athens. 

When he first stumbled out of the portal, he found himself in the middle of a large plaza filled with the white noise of everyday hustle and bustle. All around him, people who were clearly tourists milled around to the various markets that surrounded the plaza. It was a beautiful day, and he listened as the vendors at the small street shops called out to passing travelers, trying to sell their wares. He could see the mix of historical and modern architecture in the buildings surrounding the plaza, and he took a moment to marvel at them. 

As he started to take a few steps forward, he was suddenly almost hit by a man on a bicycle; Ethan just barely managed to jump backwards in time. The man shouted something at Ethan in angry Greek as he rode away. All around him, people started to look around for what the cause of the commotion was, and Ethan realized that their eyes were starting to settle on him. He suddenly got very paranoid that too much attention could lead to attention from someone very unwanted—say, a supernatural being in disguise that wanted to kill him. He’d certainly had enough of those.

So, out of a sudden desire for anonymity, he hurried forward and disappeared into the crowd. Once he was sure that no one was paying any attention to him anymore, he started to take a moment to try and figure out exactly where he was. 

He wandered up to what looked like a typical tourist shop, and decided to try his luck by going inside. The moment he did, he knew where he was. Right by the door there were an abundance of maps and brochures, almost all of them reading, “Explore the Plaka!” Ethan wasn’t entirely sure exactly what the Plaka was, but given the amount of tourists outside, he figured that had to be where he was.

Picking up a map, Ethan approached the counter and set it down. “Will that be all for you today, sir?” the cashier said in perfect English masked slightly by his thick Greek accent. 

“Yes, please,” Ethan responded. The cashier scanned the barcode on the back of the map and set it back down on the counter. Nothing happened for a few moments, until Ethan suddenly realized that the guy was waiting for payment—and that he had none.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Ethan mumbled as he dug his hand into his pocket and made a big show of digging around for cash. How much did this map even cost? Ethan had no clue. And he had no money—no dollars, no euros, no nothing. Just as he was trying to think of a way out (maybe grabbing the map and portaling away? Would Ningirama’s Wall protect him from that?), he thought of something: summoning cash to his pocket.

Could he do that? He’d never tried it, but he figured it worked on the same system as portaling. Sure, he’d probably be stealing from some person or bank, but how big a deal could it really have been? So, after realizing that he couldn’t really stall any longer, he called on a random amount of euros—he figured three hundred would do—and felt relief wash over him when, miraculously, the money appeared in his pocket.

Ethan pulled out the wad of euros and guessed on a price for the map—five. He set it down. The cashier looked down at the money, then back up at Ethan. “You need four more, sir.”

Nine euros for a map? Greece really was bankrupt. “I don’t have any ones,” Ethan explained, setting down a ten-euro bill. “Can I get change?”

“Whatever,” the cashier replied disinterestedly. He picked up the fifteen euros, stuck them in the cash register, and then handed Ethan six one-euro bills. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said as he pocketed the money and picked up his map. “Have a nice day.”

“Sure.”

Trying to ignore the rude service, Ethan left the store, unfolding his map as he went. There was a big red dot in the center of it, marked Plaka Square, so that was definitely where he was. It wasn’t a whole map of Greece, just a map of Plaka and its surrounding areas, but that was good enough for Ethan. All he needed to find was a fountain.

After examining the map for what felt like an hour (and could have been), Ethan gave up trying to find a fountain via the map. There weren’t any marked. So his only chance to find one was to just wander.

He folded up the map and stuck it in the drawstring bag he’d bought a few minutes ago that bore the slogan I Came…I Saw…I Shopped the Plaka! He’d found another tourist store with nicer service, and had bought the bag, a water bottle, some candy for when he got hungry, a pair of sunglasses, and a jacket (just in case). All of that was bundled up in the bag, which he wore on his back like a backpack. He figured he looked like a real tourist, with his Plaka-themed bag and his rainbow-rimmed sunglasses, but he didn’t really care. Technically, he was a tourist.

Finally, after a long, long time of searching (and halving his candy supply), he came across a small, square fountain at the edge of some plaza that branched off of the main one. It had a ram’s head, its water looked filthy, and it was filled with coins. It was perfect.

Digging into his pocket, Ethan pulled out the denarius that Thoth had given him. Closing his eyes and hoping to any god who would listen that it would work, he tossed the ancient Roman coin in. It landed in the water with a soft sploosh, and sank to the bottom.

Ethan must have stood there for a good minute or so, waiting for something big and dramatic to happen. When nothing did, he looked around kinda dumbly, feeling a little cheated. Had Thoth given him a dummy coin? Did Thoth’s mysterious friend not feel like helping? Had he picked a bad fountain to throw the coin in? Was there a chant he was supposed to have done? Did Thoth just not teach him the special chant? That seemed like something Thoth would forget to do.

Feeling defeated and wondering how in the hell he was going to be able to take on a hydra all by himself, Ethan turned and started walking away. As he left the fountain, he glanced up at the outdoor café position a few hundred yards from the fountain. When he first looked up, something didn’t seem right, and it took him a few moments to figure out what it was that was wrong. 

There was a man sitting at the outdoor café, casually reading a newspaper and sipping some coffee. He wore a leather jacket over top of a camouflage-green t-shirt, and stonewashed black jeans. Dark aviator sunglasses spread a shadow across his face, and his close-cropped jet-black hair was neatly buzzed. Casually clomping on the ground as he tapped his feet to some song playing in his head were his black combat boots. All in all, the guy didn’t look to out of the ordinary—except for the fact that he’d appeared out of nowhere.

Ethan knew, he knew, that there had been nobody sitting at this café when he’d first passed it to approach the fountain. He hadn’t seen a single person, and he knew that he hadn’t because he’d preferred not being seen just in case people weren’t allowed to approach the fountain or throw coins in. And now, here this guy was, sitting there.

It could have been argued, sure, that he had been seated while Ethan had been standing at the fountain with his back turned. That was a logical explanation. But Ethan had only been at the fountain for a few minutes, and here the man was with a whole half-eaten meal in front of him: a partially-eaten sandwich, a half-full basket of fries, and a half-empty cooling cup of coffee. It seemed as though the man had been sitting there for quite a while, which, of course, he hadn’t been.

Taking a leap of faith and hoping that he was right, Ethan timidly approached the café, slipped through the opening in the fence surrounding the tables, walked up to the man, and said, “Did Thoth send you?”

The man looked up at Ethan for a few moments before silently shaking his head and going back to his newspaper.

Ethan felt his flush red in point-two seconds flat. He was about to utter a hurried apology and scurry away before he embarrassed himself even further, when the man finally spoke up and said: “Thoth didn’t send me. I came here myself. Were you the one that summoned me?”

Relief washed over Ethan as he nodded and sat down. The man glanced over at him and scowled slightly, but said nothing. Ethan took that as a sign to reply: “I think so. I tossed the denarius into that fountain over there?”

“You’re the one, then,” the man said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. He folded up his newspaper and set it down on the table. Ethan only now noticed how gruff the guy’s voice was; like an army general’s. “I’d say sit down, but it seems you already have.”

“Oh. Um, sorry.”

The man waved his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. Not a big deal. Now, you mentioned Thoth? He sent you?”

“Yeah,” Ethan said, leaning forward eagerly. “My name is Ethan, and—”

“Don’t care,” the man said flatly, cutting Ethan off. “Why’d Thoth send you, kid?”

“Uh—well—I—” Ethan stuttered. The man’s rude attitude and disinterested nature really threw Ethan. He was having trouble even speaking to the guy.

“For the love of Jupiter, kid,” the man muttered. “Spit it out.”

And for whatever reason, that statement was the only thing Ethan could latch onto. “J—Jupiter?” he asked. “He’s Roman, right? That means you’re Roman?”

“Now why the hell does that matter right now?”

“Well, if we’re going to be working together, it’s only fair I should know who you are,” Ethan countered.

“I’ll be the one to decide if we’re working together,” the man rebutted, “if you’ll finally tell why the hell I’m here.”

Ethan sighed angrily. He really did not like this man. “Fine. I need to kill a hydra and bathe in its blood. Happy?”

Leaning back, the man nodded, seeming largely unfazed by the revelation. “Cool. And you want to do…what, exactly?”

“Help me kill it—?” Ethan ventured.

The man pursed his lips, thinking it over as he stared off into the sky. Finally, he looked back at Ethan, saying, “I assume Thoth said I’d help you because of that whole business where he helped me gather intel during the Napoleonic Wars?”

Ethan shrugged. “Thoth just said you owed him a favor. He never said why.”

The man chuckled. “Of course he did. Never mind that he also had a grudge against Bellona, he still counts it as a favor for me.” He fell silent again for a few moments, and then he shrugged and said, “Ah, whatever.”

Ethan waited a few moments to see if there was any follow-up. When there wasn’t, he tentatively asked, “Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“Yeah, why not?” the man replied. “Haven’t had a good fight in a few days.”

Suddenly feeling giddy and excited, and feeling like he might actually be able to accomplish his task (a feeling which had faded more and more ever since his arrival in Greece), Ethan stuck out his hand. “Ethan Locke.”

The man looked down at Ethan’s hand for a long time before eventually taking it. “Mars Ultor, Roman god of war,” he said as he shook it.

“Mars?” Ethan asked, a bit confused.

“Yeah,” Mars replied, a bit condescendingly. “You’re the one that brilliantly deduced I was Roman. Who the hell else am I gonna be?”

Ethan shrugged. “Well, since I’m in Greece, I guess I kinda—well, I don’t know—”

“You expected Ares?”

“Well—kinda—I mean—”

Mars rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Everybody expects Ares to come and help them, when he’s been chained underground at Sparta for centuries. Well, tough luck, kid. If you want a god on your side, then it’s gonna have to be me, okay?”

Ethan held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not arguing. I’m grateful for all the help I can get, trust me.”

Leaning back again, Mars picked his paper back up and leafed through the pages until he found where he’d left off, and started reading again. “Yeah, well, I think we might need a little more.”

That threw Ethan. “What do you mean?”

“I may be a god of war, but the fact remains that I’m not as bloodthirsty as Ares,” Mars answered, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I’m powerful, yeah, but not as much. I’m more about the discipline required to fight, and fight well. If you wanted a bloodthirsty war god from my pantheon, Bellona’d be the gal for you.” He scowled. “But she’s a grade-A bitch, so I recommend never crossing paths with her if you can help it.” 

He turned another page in his newspaper, scanning it as he spoke. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m strong, but not as strong as them. I can’t take on a hydra on my own, and with someone to protect while we’re fighting—you—I’ll be unfocused, which will only lessen our chances at survival.”

Ethan blinked in surprise. He would have thought that gods like Mars would have had too much pride to admit their shortcomings. In a way, that made Mars a lot more admirable than the other war gods, Ethan thought. “So—so what do we do, then?”

“Get some help from the only other guy in all of history to kill a hydra and live to tell the tale,” Mars replied, removing the page he was looking at from the newspaper and sliding it over to Ethan. He pointed at a picture of a wrestler, standing tall and proud beneath a headline reading, Strongman Hector Cleez Claims Championship Title!

Ethan furrowed his brow, confused. “Who’s that?”

“Heracles,” Mars answered, sounding bored. “Strongest mortal to ever live. He’s a demigod now, living among mortals as a pro wrestler from Greece.”

Ethan whistled in appreciation. The Heracles? From the myth of the twelve tasks? This guy was seriously famous, and Ethan couldn’t believe that he was about to meet him. “And he’ll help us?”

Mars shrugged. “Maybe.” He stuck the page back in the paper and folded it up. The paper disappeared in a small puff of smoke as Mars reached into his pocket. He pulled out a few euros and tossed them on the table as payment for his meal. “Ever since Hera screwed him over, he’s had a bit of a hatred for the gods. Never wanted much to do with ’em.”

“That sounds like he won’t help us,” Ethan pointed out nervously, standing up as well.

“Don’t worry kid,” Mars said, cracking his knuckles as he exited the café, with Ethan right behind him. “I can be pretty persuasive.”

***

Standing in the elevator, shooting up to the penthouse suite of the Royal Olympic Hotel, Ethan suddenly found that his nerves were getting to him. Not any nerves about meeting Heracles—although that was bound to be pretty cool—but nerves about how quickly this leg of the quest was drawing to a close. 

Once—or maybe if—he and Mars managed to convince Heracles to help them, then they would kill the hydra. Then Ethan would meet up with Malina and Andrew at Giza, and they would finally get the first ring. And getting that ring would only bring them one step closer to his final battle with Tiamat. 

He’d heard about almost nothing but that final battle during his weeks of training with Varuna back at Rangiroa, and the way people talked about it, it didn’t seem like Ethan’s ultimate goal was to banish Tiamat back down to Tartarus. Sure, he would be using the rings to defeat her, but it sounded like that battle was going to be a fight to the death. By the end of this war, Ethan was sure that either he or Tiamat would be dead. And once he and his friends got the ruby ring, Ethan’s potential demise would begin looming closer and closer.

Ethan glanced over at Mars, hoping that the god wasn’t picking up on the mini-panic attack Ethan was trying to suppress. But the war god seemed more interested in inspecting his slightly-bloody knuckles than Ethan, which Ethan was okay with.

They’d had to fight their way into the building, which Ethan hadn’t quite expected, to be honest. But then again, Heracles was famous in the mortal world as championship wrestler Hector Cleez. Ethan and Mars couldn’t really have expected to just waltz right in. But the amount of security and bodyguards and doormen that they’d had to go through—well, Heracles couldn’t really be that famous, could he?

Mars glanced up from his hand to the floor counter, which was currently at forty-seven. “Penthouse is the fiftieth floor, right?”

Ethan nodded. “Yep.”

Mars cleared his throat. “Alright, then.” He cracked his knuckles and his neck, loosening himself up. “Get ready, kid. If this doesn’t open directly into the penthouse, there’s gonna be more security.”

Ethan nodded, understanding, and breathed out. With that breath came the fire within him, exiting through his wrists and trailing lazily around his fingers. Fire punches were always better than regular punches.

Forty-eight…forty-nine…fifty.

Ding.

The doors slid open, and Ethan was actually very relieved to see that the elevator opened into the penthouse. That meant they had no real security to fight through; only the two bodyguards standing in front of the door. Mars could handle them.

And handle them he did. When the doors slid open, the two bodyguards turned around to see two people they didn’t recognize standing in the elevator. But before they had any time to react or call out, Mars was on them, smashing their heads together with a crack. The bodyguards were out like lights, crumpling to the ground.

“Jared? Is that you?” a deep voice with a slight Greek accent called from the other room. “I thought I told you not to bother me, because like I said, I don’t care if El Chupacabra wants to challenge me for the title, I won it fair and square—”

Heracles rounded the corner, wearing a silk robe with an H embroidered on the left breast, a blue-and-white headband, and fuzzy bunny slippers. He stopped cold when he saw his bodyguards on the ground. “What the—?” He looked up, looking like he was beginning to panic, to see Mars casually stepping over the unconscious men to approach him. Ethan trailed behind Mars, slightly intimidated in the presence of such a famed figure.

“Howdy, Herc,” Mars said jovially, sauntering into the living area and plopping himself down on the couch. “How’s it been? I heard you won the championship title. Kudos.” Ethan wordlessly sat on the armchair across from the couch, not wanting to interrupt and accidentally end up ruining everything. He did that sometimes, he noticed. 

“My name isn’t Hercules, so don’t call me that,” Heracles muttered. “Hercules is that pompous bastard from your pantheon who gets all the glory.” He folded his arms across his chest. “We did the exact same things and you know it.”

Mars shrugged. “Not my fault he did it better.” The war god patted the space next to him on the couch. “Sit, why don’t you? We got some stuff to talk about.”

Heracles scoffed. “Like hell we do. How’d you even get up here?”

“Let’s just say that your elite team of bodyguards and security is currently taking a little collective nap,” Mars replied, putting a condescending emphasis on the word elite. “Nobody’s gonna be interrupting us for a good, long while. Why not take a seat and talk?”

Heracles stood there for a good, long while, not moving. Finally, he sighed and crossed to the couch, sitting down next to Mars. Ethan was grateful to find that Heracles was actually wearing underwear underneath the robe—although it didn’t seem like he was wearing anything else. “What do you want?” Heracles asked bitterly. “And who is this?” he added, gesturing towards Ethan.

“My name is Ethan Locke,” Ethan replied. “And I—”

“He’s The One,” Mars interrupted, cutting Ethan off. 

Heracles’s eyes widened. “The One?”

“Could you maybe not speak for me?” Ethan asked, bristling with anger and annoyance. “I’m perfectly capable of speaking for myself, thanks. And how’d you even know that about me? You never gave me the chance to tell you.”

Mars snorted. “Well, Jupiter, kid, how could I not know? The second you summoned me into that café, I felt your aura. It’s a strong one.”

“So what does The One want with me?” Heracles questioned condescendingly. “Not that I’d help you anyway, seeing as how you work for that bitch Hecate.”

Mars rolled his eyes. “Just because she’s friends with Hera doesn’t give you reason to hate her, Herc.”

“Of course it does!” Heracles exclaimed. “Hera ruined my life, so anyone who associates with her is no friend of mine. And don’t call me Herc!”

“Look, we just need your help killing a hydra,” Ethan cut in, trying to get the conversation back on track. “That’s something we know you can do. Then you can be off on your merry way again.”

Heracles crossed his arms. “Nothing doing.”

“For Juno’s sake, man, what is your issue here?” Mars cried exasperatedly. “Does the fate of the world mean nothing to you?”

Heracles arched an eyebrow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Tiamat is rising,” Mars said simply. “Haven’t you felt it? She’s awake in her prison, and she’s writhing and shaking to get free. All sorts of nasty things from across the pantheons are coming out to play so they can help her break free, and this kid—” Mars pointed Ethan “—is the only one who can stop that. You’ve heard Hecate’s prophecy. You know that to be true. Kid’s got a long way to go, but right now, he can only advance in his quest if he kills a hydra. If this hydra doesn’t get killed, and you know damn well that we need you in order to do it, then you’re responsible for Tiamat’s rising. Do you really want that on your head?”

There was silence for a long time. Ethan silently applauded Mars’s speech. But then, instead of agreeing to help them, Heracles simply stood and said, “Well, then I hope the first thing Tiamat does is swallow Hera whole.”

And with that, Heracles began to walk away. Mars sighed and muttered, “I was really hoping we could have done this peacefully, but I guess not.”

“Wait, what?” was all Ethan could get out before Mars stood up sharply, turned towards Heracles’s retreating figure, and raised his hand toward it.

“Mando tibi, spiritus belli, ut serviant mihi,” Mars said in a commanding tone. Heracles suddenly tensed up, as if he couldn’t move. 

“What did you just do?” Ethan asked, standing up.

Mars’s response wasn’t to Ethan, but to Heracles. “You know what that is, don’t you?” he said, sneering a bit. “I can command any spirit of war to serve me whenever I damn well please. And you, my friend, are definitely a spirit of war.”

Heracles turned, his movement stilted and jagged. He looked like he was fighting Mars’s influence, but to no avail. “Really?” he spat. “You’re going to force me to help you? Whatever happened to free will, Mars?”

“That’s just something we tell mortals they have so they’ll feel better,” Mars answered with a small chuckle. Ethan blinked in surprise; he kinda wanted to hear more on that later. “You do what I say now, Heracles. And I say, help us kill the hydra.”

“Fine,” Heracles hissed at the war god. “I’ll help you kill your stupid hydra.”

Mars was about to let go of his control over Heracles, when Ethan suddenly noticed something. It was a flash across the demigod’s face, a glint in his eye, but Ethan knew it. It was the same look Sehaqeq had had way back in Yale, before he’d tried to kill Ethan. It was the look of imminent betrayal.

“Wait,” Ethan cut in. Mars re-strengthened his hold on Heracles instantly. 

“What do you need, kid?” Mars asked, still not taking his eyes off of the demigod.

Ethan took a step towards Heracles. “Swear it,” he ordered. “Swear on the River Styx that you’ll help us.” Ethan wasn’t exactly proficient in mythology, but he knew enough to know that an oath on the River Styx was binding. If one tried to break it, they’d meet a fate worse than death. He didn’t quite know what that fate was, but he figured it had to be pretty damn bad.

Mars grinned. “Smart thinking, kid.”

Heracles was visibly fighting it. After a few moments of silence, Mars barked, “Swear it!” 

Finally, the demigod relented and said, sounding defeated, “I swear it. I swear it on the River Styx.”

Mars finally relinquished his hold on Heracles, clapping his hands together as a giddy grin split across his face. “Alright,” he said, sounding excited. “Let’s go slay ourselves a damn hydra!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yowza! So after doing a little touristing, Ethan's now got TWO gods on his side to fight this hydra. Things are looking up for our old pal, and his part of the quest is certainly going a lot better so far than the other two's. Speaking of...I wonder how Andrew's doing, out in the desert...?
> 
> But anyway, there's not a lot to say about this chapter. Just to clue you in: there will be nine chapters total dedicated to this portion of the quest, three for each of our characters. Each character has now had their "set up the pins" chapter--now all they need is their "let's bowl" and "knock-em-down" chapters. Which will come later. Hopefully soon. Idk.
> 
> Regardless! In case you didn't already know how to pronounce it:  
> Heracles = HARE-uh-cleez  
> Mars = come on. you should know how to pronounce Mars.
> 
> The song is "Convincing People" by Throbbing Gristle. Take that band name how you will, but the song title fit the chapter absolutely perfectly, so I just had to use it.


	29. Midnight at the Oasis

Andrew’s window of time was drawing dangerously to a close, and he still hadn’t managed to figure out a solution to his impossible dilemma.

Five days after fleeing from the wrath of Azizos and El, Andrew was hiding out at an oasis he’d found in the desert; the ground of the oasis was made of stone, so El couldn’t touch Andrew there. It wasn’t all that big, but it was big enough; there was a lake for water, a few trees for shade, and Andrew could summon all the food he wanted. 

He wasn’t having a hard time surviving there. His issue, mostly, was that it was now nighttime on the fifth day. Which meant that once the sun rose, he would only have about forty more hours to figure a way to get that damned karkadann horn. And he couldn’t even begin to solve that conundrum when he couldn’t even step off of the oasis, lest El try and drag him underneath the sand again. Andrew had discovered that through some very near-deadly trial and error.

So he sat there, silently shivering in the night (despite his five layers of blankets), wracking his brain to see if there was any sort of solution that for whatever reason had not already presented itself to him. And unfortunately, he was coming up with absolutely nothing.

That stupid, stupid man. Azizos had acted completely irrationally, in Andrew’s opinion. Who cared if the karkadanns got a little sad when their horns got taken away? Anybody would. But the removal process was painless, and the horns grew back. So what was the big deal? Just stick a rock on the beast’s nose to calm it down and call it a day. 

Unable to just sit there any longer because he felt like he would freeze if he did, Andrew stood up and began to pace, still with the blankets wrapped around him. Day one, he’d spent hours escaping El and traversing the desert until he’d finally found the oasis. He’d stayed there overnight, but knew he had to escape. Which meant that day two, he’d tried to just create a hovering disc of air and fly away, but El always seemed to sense that and still kept trying to drag him down. So on day three he’d tried flying so close to the sky that El couldn’t possibly have reached him. And yeah, El didn’t attack him, but Azizos did. So that only served to put Andrew right back at the drawing board.

Day four, he’d discovered that the lake had an underground system of tunnels that the water ran through. Andrew was sure that those tunnels led to one, if not all, of the lakes at the karkadann meadows. So he’d donned a sphere of air around his head for breathing, and dove in. But El seemed to have a monopoly on the underground too, because Andrew had ended up almost drowning for his troubles.

On day five, he’d finally tried—many times over—to just portal out. But El must have been messing with the Duat around the desert, because every time Andrew tried to envision the karkadann meadows and portal to there, he’d end up in the middle of the desert, and El would be on him in seconds. Fortunately, he always managed to portal back to his oasis, but he wasn’t too eager to test his luck any further at this point; on his last attempt, he’d ended up portaling back to a few hundred yards away from the oasis. That’d been one hell of a run.

So now, here he was, probably less than forty-eight hours away from his deadline since it was most likely past midnight at this point. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight (it was the coldest it had been since his first night in the desert), Andrew just kept pacing, trying to keep his blood flowing so he could keep himself warm. And quite honestly, he couldn’t see any way off of the oasis. Land, air, and sea had all failed him; even portaling wasn’t working. He only hoped that, if he was forced to miss their precious deadline, then Azizos would let him go, since Azizos knew about the deadline. But it was likely that Azizos had already forgotten about that. With Andrew’s luck, he was trapped there forever.

And so he paced, back and forth, furiously, with his head bent down as he was lost in thought. So one could imagine his surprise when he suddenly ran into another body, blocking his path. A woman’s body, to be precise. And one could imagine his further surprise when his head, being bent down, ran into something he hadn’t quite expected.

Suddenly flustered and feeling his face run red in a hot flash, Andrew leapt back with a cry, startled and confused. Standing before him was a newcomer to the oasis, the first person Andrew had seen in five days. The olive-skinned woman wore a regal, dark purple dress that fell all the way down the ground. The dress halted at just below the armpits, which definitely accounted for Andrew’s…mishap. Her elegantly cropped brown hair was slightly covered by a purple veil she wore over her face; Andrew could just barely make out her cold, sharp facial features through the veil. Really, Andrew hadn’t expected this woman to just appear out of nowhere. But he knew exactly who she was.

“Why, Anshar,” Nyx, goddess of the night, purred as she threw back her veil, revealing her face. “I never quite expected you to be so…bold. Though I must say, it suits you.”

“Nyx,” Andrew greeted her quietly, not quite able just yet to make eye contact. His face was still extremely red, he could feel it. But at least it was keeping him warm. “What brings you here to my little paradise?”

Nyx scoffed. “I know that’s sarcasm, Anshar, but this place can hardly be called a paradise by any means.” She looked around. “What is it; maybe, fifty square feet? Sixty?”

“A hundred and ten,” Andrew muttered. 

“I won’t ask how you know that for sure—”

“I had nothing to do the first day I got here.”

Nyx gave him a slightly disgusted look before continuing. “—because I’ve come to discuss matters far more important than the things you choose to do in your spare time.”

Andrew was finally able to look at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nyx gave him a mischievous grin. “How would you like to have your karkadann horn?”

Now it was Andrew’s turn to scoff. “Unless you happen to have one already on hand, you can’t get it to me. It’s impossible, Azizos won’t allow it.” He didn’t have to ask how Nyx knew that he needed a karkadann horn. In fact, she probably knew all the details of their entire quest. A goddess as primordial and powerful as Nyx, especially one who existed in the shadows, was one of the few people in all the worlds who could truly say they knew everything.

Nyx rolled her eyes. “Anshar, you should know better.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“How do you think I got here?” Nyx asked, spreading her hands wide. “I am an ancient goddess, Anshar, and the darkness itself is my subject. I can bend it to my will to change it into anything I desire, including portals. I can be anywhere in the world with a snap of my fingers, so long as there is even the smallest of shadows there to receive me.”

Now Andrew was intrigued. “You’d do that? You’d get me to the karkadann meadows? What about El? He’s been messing with the Duat around here.”

Nyx laughed. “My dear, the charm he’s been using is as simple as a child’s toy. I’m honestly surprised you never tried to directly bypass it; you could have shattered it if you had.” Truth be told, Andrew had never really considered that. 

“It’s simple, Anshar,” Nyx continued, holding out her hand. “All you have to do is take my hand, and we can be at the karkadann meadows faster than you can say ‘night.’”

But while this offer was tempting, Andrew wasn’t stupid. He’d existed in the world of gods and monsters for long enough to know that there were certain gods with whom everything came with a price. Nyx had a longstanding reputation as one of those gods. “What is it you want in return?” Andrew asked suspiciously.

Nyx sighed. “Why, Anshar, I would have thought—”

“Don’t play games with me,” Andrew warned. “You never give help for free. Whatever it is, I’ll pay it, but tell me what it is now.”

Nyx was silent for a few moments. Then: “Very well, then. My price is a karkadann skin.”

He knew it. Andrew had known her offer was too good to be true. “Not happening. I swore to Azizos that I wouldn’t kill a karkadann, and I intend to stand by oath.”

“Did you swear on the Styx?” Nyx asked innocently.

“W—well no, but—”

“Then it’s not really all that binding, is it?”

“It’s binding to me,” Andrew argued. “I have morals, you know.”

“Anshar, you and I both know that one does not win wars through morals,” Nyx replied coldly. “One wins wars by doing whatever is necessary. And if you don’t get this karkadann horn, you won’t win your war.”

Andrew hated to admit that she was right. “It’s just—how can I do this? To an innocent creature? They nearly went extinct because of people hunting them for their skins. If I do this, I’m no better than those poachers.”

“Yes, but they didn’t go extinct, did they?” Nyx countered. “Azizos saved them, and now look. They’re thriving. You can skin one, it’s okay,” she added with a bit of a purr. “He won’t miss it.”

“He most certainly will,” Andrew rebutted. “And when he finds out one of his karkadanns is dead, who do you think he’ll go to? Me. He’ll hunt me down until he kills me, Nyx. I don’t need that on my plate right now.”

Nyx scoffed. “Anshar, you and I both know that Azizos is nothing without his little sand friend. And El can’t leave the Arabian Desert. Once you’re out of here, you can take the Morningstar, easily.”

Andrew shook his head. “No. I won’t do it.”

Nyx’s expression hardened. “Fine, then,” she spat. “Have fun rotting here for the rest of your days, Anshar, because that is your fate if you do not accept my help. And your days will be quite limited, I should think, once Tiamat rises because you failed to hold up your end of the bargain.” 

She poked him in the chest on that last part. “Because, after all, we both know how dearly Tiamat loves her grandchildren. Remember what happened to dear old Kishar?”

Andrew grabbed Nyx’s wrist and shoved her away, suddenly seeing red. “Don’t you dare bring her up. Ever.”

“What was it that Tiamat did?” Nyx plowed on, ignoring him. “Oh, yes, I remember now. She gave you two a choice, yes? Both of you join her, or one of you dies. You were ready to give up and fight by her side, but Kishar was much more valiant than you, wasn’t she?”

“Shut up!” Andrew shouted. “Shut! Up!”

“She refused to bow under Tiamat’s pressure,” Nyx hissed. “She marched right up to your grandmother and outright refused her offer.”

“Stop it!”

“And then Tiamat swallowed her whole,” Nyx went on, a vicious sort of satisfaction etched on her face. “Right then and there. Extinguished her life force, and held up her end of the deal. And you ran. You let the war go on without you, all because you were too afraid to face the danger. Your sister never was.” Nyx rushed forward and grabbed Andrew by the shirt. “Where were your silly morals then, Anshar? Or did they not yet exist?”

Andrew snapped. He cried out, cracking Nyx across the face with his fist. She stumbled backwards, and Andrew grabbed her veil, yanking. It tugged hard on her hair, and she cried out in pain. Then Andrew let go, throwing her down to the ground. 

He stood over her for a few seconds, both of them breathing heavily. Then Nyx looked up at him and whispered savagely, “Now, now. Save that fight in you for when Tiamat comes to reunite you with your foolish sister.”

“Shut up,” Andrew warned her.

“Not until you agree that this is the best course of action,” Nyx implored, hastily climbing to her feet. “You want to avenge your sister, yes? The way you never got to do in the first war? This is how you start,” she said, holding out her hand. “The death of a simple karkadann is meaningless if it means destroying Tiamat once and for all.”

Andrew looked down at her hand, still reluctant to take it. He had one more question for her: “Why do you want a karkadann skin so badly, anyway?”

Nyx looked surprised by the question. Then she composed herself, shrugged, and replied, “I have my reasons. Now, do we have a deal, or not?”

“Why me?” Andrew asked. “If you can get into the meadows, and you need a karkadann skin so badly, then why can’t you just go and do it?”

Nyx sighed, as if the question annoyed her. Andrew didn’t care; he waited silently for an answer. Stepping back, Nyx mulled over the question for a few moments before saying, quietly, “I was cursed.”

“What was that?”

“I was cursed,” Nyx repeated, louder this time. “There was a sorceress in the Maldives. A mortal one. She was in possession of a rare blue-flamed phoenix. And I happened to need the heart of a blue-flamed phoenix for a ritual of mine. So I went in, and I killed the beast.” She dropped her head, as if ashamed. “But the sorceress caught me before I could make my escape. She entrapped me with her charms, and laid a curse upon me before setting me free: a curse that forbade me from ever harming another living thing.”

“Which means no more rituals for you,” Andrew concluded. “Because all the types of rituals you’d do involve sacrifices, don’t they?”

Nyx nodded. “So since then, I’ve spent my time making deals with people—gods and mortals alike—so they would do these things for me. Some have betrayed me, some have followed through, and some have outright refused. It’s a filthy, unpredictable system, but it’s all I have anymore.”

“You say that as if you expect me to feel sorry for you,” Andrew spat. 

“I don’t,” Nyx retorted. “But this is quid pro quo, is it not? It just so happens that we both need something from a karkadann. Why not work together to get them?” She held out her hand to him for the third time.

Andrew had to admit, she made a very compelling argument. And what she had said earlier—about avenging Kishar—it was really resonating with him. Was he really willing to just give up, abandon everything he’d worked for, just because of a petty moral qualm over killing one measly karkadann? In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t seem irredeemable. 

And so he came to his decision.

Taking her hand, Andrew said flatly, “I’ll do it. But on one condition.”

“What? No. You’re already getting something out of this,” Nyx argued.

“One condition or no deal,” Andrew replied, never once taking his eyes off of her. He had to show no emotion, no weakness, or otherwise she would never agree. 

She scanned his face for a few moments before relenting. “Fine. What is it?”

“Make sure that Azizos never hunts me down for this,” Andrew demanded. “I don’t care if he finds out, but if I ever hear from him again on this matter, there’ll be hell to pay for you, do you understand me?”

Nyx laughed. “As if you could truly punish me.”

Andrew tightened his grip on her hand. He could see the pain forming in her face. “Don’t test me, bitch.”

“Fine, fine,” she gasped. He let go of her hand, and she yanked it away, rubbing it in pain. “You drive a hard bargain, Anshar, but I’ll do it. I’ll take care of Azizos.” Somewhere in the back of Andrew’s mind, he had a sickening feeling that that meant nobody would ever be hearing from Azizos ever again. 

But it was odd; he didn’t quite care.

Nyx waved her hand, and in the darkness next to them, a rectangular portion suddenly turned a few shades darker. “This is our doorway in,” she explained. “And, as an added bonus, I’ll even make sure Azizos won’t see you. I’ll cover you in my darkness. He’s been watching the karkadanns night and day since your arrival on this oasis, not eating, not sleeping. With my cloak, he’ll never even know the karkadann is gone until morning.”

Andrew wordlessly nodded his understanding. Nyx stepped back, regally gesturing into the dark portal. “After you, Anshar.” She produced a long, jagged blade from thin air and handed it to Andrew as he passed her. “For the skinning, of course.”

Andrew took the blade and briefly, very briefly, thought about stabbing her with it. Then he could be rid of her, jump through the portal before it closed, and still have his karkadann horn. Sure, it would be difficult to escape Azizos after that, but he could still do it. 

Then he remembered: Nyx was not his enemy here. She was helping him. So why was he so seriously considering killing her, and not feeling any remorse over the thought of it, just like he had with Azizos just moments ago?

What had she done to him? What had he become?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES OKAY so it's been a really long time, I know, and I'm really sorry for anyone who was actually keeping up with this?? I'm a piece of shit I know but life kinda really got away from me, I started a new job that got pretty demanding as the summer went on, I was busy with getting ready for college (and subsequently, now attending college) and yeah I just didn't really have a lot of time to just sit down and write. But I do now! And hopefully it stays that way!
> 
> Anyway, yeah, this is the second of Andrew's three chapters. Next will come Malina's, then Ethan's, then back to Andrew, then Malina again, and then Ethan again. Then they all meet up again to try and get the ring! Will they succeed? You'll find out (hopefully)! Gah, you guys, this part of the story is coming to and end...but the overall tale is far from over! I promise!
> 
> The song for this chapter is "Midnight at the Oasis" by Maria Muldaur. Give it a listen, I guarantee you that you know this song. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys! I hope you enjoyed, and I hope there's never as long a hiatus as that again! Until next time!


	30. Guiding Light

Vanaheim was an absolute mess.

Being the most obscure of the nine worlds, Malina hadn’t exactly gone into it with any expectations. She’d never been to Vanaheim before, and had actually thought that maybe it’d be a nice and fun excursion. A little vacation, maybe. 

But no. Six days into her journey through this hellhole of a world, and she still had no goddamn clue where the marmennills were. She was running out of time.

Not to say that Vanaheim was a desolate place. No, on the contrary; it was beautiful; lush forests as far as the eye could see, with purple snowcapped mountains touching the sky off on the horizon. The sun shone fiery and green in the sky (the only weird thing about it, honestly), and soaring castles with exquisite architecture could be seen dotting the landscape from the hill Malina was standing on. 

It was incredible, really, and Malina was sad that she didn’t have more time to enjoy it. But as it stood, she was tired, cold, hungry, and as much of a mess herself as the situation she was in. And she still had no idea where to find the ocean.

Marmennills were basically male mermaids. And mermaids lived the ocean. So it stood to reason, Malina thought, that marmennills lived in the ocean. But now here she was, six days later, and still no ocean in sight. She might have begun searching lakes, if she had found any. It was beginning to seem like Vanaheim, with its odd perpetually-blue sky and green sun, didn’t even have any water.

Picking leaves out of her ratty hair, and wishing desperately to find a lake or a pond or a lagoon or something so she could just take a damn shower already, Malina began to make her way down the hill. She’d been wandering the vast expanse of Vanaheim for days now, and had yet to actually come across another living thing. She was surviving mostly off of questionably edible berries from bushes (her stomach tingled slightly, and she wasn’t sure what that meant, but it couldn’t be good), and sheer determination. 

The nights were cold in Vanaheim, and thanks to stupid portaling restrictions for the Seven Worlds, she couldn’t summon blankets to keep her warm. So she’d had to keep trying her luck making fires, never to any avail. Which led to her tearing leaves off the trees and shivering as she tried to use sticks to weave some sort of covering for herself. It didn’t exactly keep her warm, but it was better than nothing.

She really wasn’t cut out for this sort of survivalist lifestyle. Malina had to wonder, as she continued to make her way down the steep hill, how did Ullr do it? How did mortals do this? How did anybody do this? It was awful. She really wished she had Ullr or somebody with her to help her make her way through Vanaheim faster, because Ullr would definitely know how to get to the ocean. 

And speaking of somebody to help her, where the hell where the Vanir? They were supposedly a separate group of gods who lived in Vanaheim, but Malina had yet to even see or hear of a single sign of any of them. She supposed they probably lived in those castles she kept seeing far off in the distance, but it never seemed like she was ever getting any closer to them. It was infuriating.

As she continued down the hill—which seemed to only be growing steeper—she couldn’t help but wonder how she was going to be able to explain her failure to her friends. Andrew had had to go get the horn of an extinct species. Ethan had had to go kill a near-unkillable monster. What had she had to do? Go ask politely for five scales off a marmennill’s back. It should have been the easiest job. So why couldn’t she—?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she suddenly lost her footing. The patch of what she’d thought was dirt turned out to be fresh mud, and her foot slipped. She flailed comically for a few moments, trying to grab onto something so she could regain her balance, but there was nothing to grab on to.

And then she was falling. Tumbling, crashing, plummeting down the hill. Cuts and scrapes and bruises appeared on her body without warning. She tried to summon some light magic to stop herself, but she was falling too fast. She couldn’t concentrate hard enough.

When she finally hit the bottom, her forehead connected hard with a rock. Malina lost consciousness immediately.

*** 

Everything was coming back to her in a haze. First, her senses; she could smell cooking meat, and could hear the quiet sound of crackling embers somewhere to her left. Her mouth was dry and brittle, and the ground beneath her was warm, but wooden.

Opening her eyes slowly, Malina tried to recall where she was and why she was there. But everything still felt hazy. She struggled to figure out why her new surroundings were so different, so foreign, and why they were making every part of her body scream to run.

Trying to prop herself up, Malina found that she couldn’t; every bone in her body was sore, with aching muscles crying out for rest the moment she so much as twitched. So instead, she lay there, fingers barely ghosting over the wooden floor beneath her, as she struggled to remember why it wasn’t soft and why it should have been soft.

The popping of the embers suddenly became louder, and they triggered a word in Malina’s mind: fire. There was a fire nearby. Her dim mind told her that that explained the smell of cooking meat. 

Soon after she had put that together, her body was suddenly overflowed with a relaxing, relieving sense of warmth. Her body calmed, and she felt giddy. She managed a small, contented smile. A thought sprung to her mind: this is the warmest I’ve been in days.

The still-awakening soldier part of Malina suddenly pounced on that thought, attacking its source and demanding to know why she hadn’t been warm recently. The logical answer was that it had been cold. But what had been cold? Where had she been? Cold usually came from the outside. Had she been outside a lot recently? And why was the ground so hard? Where was the dirt she’d become so accustomed to sleeping on?

The thought of the dirt was what did it. Everything came roaring back to her like someone had flipped a switch in Malina’s brain. The quest, the scales, Vanaheim, her fall—all of it. Suddenly alert, she realized that she had no idea where she was. And seeing as how she could barely move, and how the only light was coming from the flickering fire, she was having trouble figuring that out. 

Straining her eyes and scanning the ceiling, she finally managed to make out some simple wooden beams arranged in standard log cabin style. So she was in some sort of cabin. But why? And who had brought her here?

Footsteps. Off to the right. They grew louder the closer they came. Suddenly, a figure stepped into her field of vision, a dark and unidentifiable shape looming in the slight darkness. A grunt emitted from the figure; a male one. His boots were made of leather, and soaked in blood.

The man slowly leaned down, his face getting closer to Malina’s with each passing second. Finally, he was close enough that she could see him. A thick beard practically covered the lower half of his face, and an intricate symbol that Malina didn’t recognize was tattooed around his right eye. The man’s long, shaggy hair was tied in rough braids around his head to keep it in place, and he wore several layers of long-since-dirtied animal skins and pelts as clothing. His breath was hot but oddly pleasant.

The man scanned Malina for a few moments before gruffly intoning, “Awake, I see.”

“I—I—” Malina struggled to get the words out, but her mouth was too dry and her jaw ached too much. 

“Shh, shh,” the man shushed. “Save your energy. Give me a few moments, and the pain will go away. I promise.” And with that, he stood and crossed behind Malina, heading for the fire to her left. Given no other option but to trust him, Malina decided to do as she was told and lay there, motionless.

A few minutes later, the man returned bearing a bowl of foul-looking liquid with chunks of unidentifiable meat floating around in it. He took a spoon from his pocket and held the bowl out to Malina, who instinctively started to back her head away. “W—wh—”

“Don’t fight it,” the man told her sternly. “If you’re to feel any better, you’d best let me feed this to you. It’s a healing broth of my own design. The meat is just wolf meat, thrown in for some flavor. Otherwise it’d taste right awful,” he finished with a chuckle.

The man scooped some of the broth onto the spoon, and held the spoon up to Malina’s mouth. “Can you hold your mouth open on your own? I’ll do it myself if I have to, but seeing as how we’re total strangers that may get a tad awkward.”

He seemed kind, and considerate. Malina decided to take a chance and trust him. She let out an affirmative grunt, and mustered up all her strength to open her mouth and keep it that way. “Good, good,” the man assured her as he spooned the broth into her mouth. “Now swallow.”

It hurt to gulp, but Malina did it. The moment the broth swam its way down to her stomach, the pain she felt all over her body subsided slightly. Relief washed over her as she realized that this man, whoever he was, genuinely was helping her. It was easier to hold open her mouth now, and she could sort of clench her hands and feet. Whatever the broth was, it was working.

A smile leapt to her face, unbidden. The man noticed and smiled back. “Ah, you already feel better, yes?” Malina nodded as best she could, still unable to really speak since her throat was still too dry. “Excellent. Let’s get the rest of this bowl into you and you should be good as new.”

Malina complied, letting the man scoop spoonful after spoonful of the broth into her mouth. After the fourth one, she could sit up, so the man allowed her to, even going so far as to carry over a log from his log pile for her to lean against. By the sixth spoonful, her throat was wet enough that she could speak again, and she could move freely with only a little bit of soreness. As a result, the man allowed her to take over, giving her the bowl and the spoon to finish off the broth herself as he tended to the fire.

Malina gulped down the broth eagerly. It had been quite some time since she’d eaten anything of real sustenance, so she was beyond grateful for the meat. Once the last of the broth was gone, she set the bowl and the spoon down on the floor next to her and glanced over at the man. This man, this stranger, had taken her in and completely healed her. Her body felt rejuvenated, good as new, and her cuts, bruises, and head gash from the rock were all long gone. She wanted to thank him. But she had no idea who he was.

“Th—thank you,” she managed to get out. She figured his identity would come out eventually.

The man laughed jovially. “It’s no trouble, really.” He was crouching down next to the fire, poking it with an iron poker. He was silent for a few moments before setting the poker down and shifting into a sitting position, leaning up against the fireplace. “Who am I to turn down a soul in need?”

Malina smiled. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’m—” Her eyes suddenly widened as she remembered that her quest had a time limit. She started to stand up, panicking. “Wait. What time is it? What day is it? I need to—”

The man shot up and grabbed her by the shoulders, gently guiding her back down to a seated position. “Shh, calm down. You might be feeling better, but you can’t go getting yourself all worked up just yet. What is it you need?”

“The time,” Malina blurted. “What day is it?”

“Well, it’s just about dusk, I should say,” the man mused, glancing out the window. “As for the day, well, it’s the same. It’s only been twelve hours or so since I found you in the woods. Why?”

Relief washed over Malina yet again as she realized that she still had time. Her body relaxed, and then tensed up again as she realized that although she had time, she only had a little over a day left. There was no way she’d be finding the marmennills if she stayed here any longer. 

“I have to go,” she breathed, standing up and pushing past the man, headed for the door.

“Wait, wait, no!” the man shouted after her. He grabbed her shoulder just as she was about to open the door, and yanked back.

That did it. Malina didn’t care that this man had helped her. He was officially an inhibitor to the quest, and that meant she had to take action. She grabbed his wrist and pulled, eliciting a cry of pain from the man. Then she whipped around and pushed him backwards. He stumbled, but didn’t fall.

“I’m on a very time-sensitive mission, so quit trying to keep me from leaving,” Malina spat. “The only reason I didn’t break your wrist is because you helped me, and I thank you for that. But now I have to go, and I don’t give a shit if you need company or some shit out here in recluse. I’m not your girl for that.” The thought popped into her mind, however, that the man was definitely attractive enough for her to consider that.

“Just be quiet and calm down, would you?” the man interrupted, sounding annoyed as he rubbed his hurt wrist. “I wasn’t trying to stop you from leaving, only from opening that specific door.”

That confused Malina. “What?”

“That’s not an exit, girl,” he huffed. “Well, it is, but not the one you’re looking for. You want to go back out in the forest, go ahead, but that door is in the other room,” he said, pointing into the room he’d first entered from. “The door behind you is a project of mine. It’s a portal, but at the moment it’s a bit unstable. If you open it without a destination, you’re liable to end up anywhere in all the worlds. And that’s not a risk I’d think you’re willing to take.”

“Oh,” Malina said quietly, suddenly feeling stupid. “Thanks for stopping me. I’m sorry about your wrist.”

The man shrugged dismissively. “It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

Malina figured this was as good a time as any to figure out who the hell this guy was. “Sorry, but who even are you, anyway? I mean, you live out here all alone, you make healing broths, and you’re designing your own portal?”

The man chuckled. “Ah, my apologies. I should’ve introduced myself sooner.” He held out a hand. “Kvasir.”

“Malina,” she answered, shaking his hand. Now it all made sense; the broth, the portal. Kvasir was one of the wisest of all the Norse gods, if not their wisdom god himself. He was born of both the Aesir and the Vanir, which was a rare union, and that made him extremely knowledgeable on many things. But there was one thing that didn’t make sense.

“Kvasir?” Malina questioned. “Word was that you were dead. The dwarves drained you of your blood so they could make the Mead of Poetry.”

Kvasir chuckled. “Well, yes, that’s the official story. But I only gave them half of my blood, and I gave it willingly. But the dwarves warned me that if they were successful in creating their Mead, I would be hunted for the rest of my blood so others could make it for themselves. And that wouldn’t do. So I told them to tell everyone I was dead, and came here to live in peace and quiet.” 

He grinned at her. “Truth be told, I prefer the solitude. It’s calming.”

Malina smiled back. “I can understand that. The gods really do get crazy sometimes, don’t they?”

Kvasir laughed. “Yes, indeed they do.” He arched an eyebrow. “But you said you were on a time-sensitive mission?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Malina forced herself out of the slight trance that Kvasir’s twinkling eyes and warm, rumbling voice had put her in, and began to head for the door. She was halfway there when she remembered that she had no idea where she was going. 

Maybe Kvasir could help. She figured she’d ask him. And that had nothing to do with the fact that she kind of wanted to stick around Kvasir for a little longer, maybe see if she could casually squeeze one of his biceps. “Only thing is, I’m not quite sure where I’m going,” she said, turning around.

Kvasir laughed, and Malina melted a little. “I’m sure I can help you. Where is it that you need going to?”

“I’m trying to find the marmennills,” she told him. “I’m pretty sure they live in the ocean, you know, like fish people would. Only problem is, I’m having trouble finding the ocean.”

Kvasir laughed again. “Let me guess. You were headed for the castles, trying to find directions?”

Malina blinked in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Those castles are enchanted,” Kvasir explained. “We Vanir are a very reclusive people, and as such we don’t take too kindly to visitors to Vanaheim. Anyone who sees those castles are naturally inclined to head towards them so they can find civilization. But the castles are empty, and they have magic surrounding them that make it so if you’re heading towards one, you’ll never reach it.”

So that explained a lot. Malina suddenly felt stupid for never realizing that. “Well, that’s a bit of a dick move, isn’t it?”

Kvasir smirked. “Yes, but it worked, didn’t it?”

Malina rolled her eyes. “Okay, sure, it worked. Now can you give me directions to the marmennills or not? I have places to be.”

“Of course,” Kvasir laughed. He pointed behind her, at the portal-door. “You can take my portal, if you like.”

“But I thought you said it was unstable?” Malina questioned nervously.

“Only if you step through without a specific destination,” Kvasir clarified. “But, for instance, if I were to tell you that the marmennills reside in Vanaheim’s Eastern Sea, and you were to step through with the destination in mind ‘Vanaheim Eastern Sea shore’, you might find yourself on the shore of the Eastern Sea.”

“Might?” Malina pointed out, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“I was using it as a figure of speech,” Kvasir said, faking annoyance. “You will, okay? You will end up where you need to go.”

Malina turned around and looked at the portal-door. Truth be told, she’d sort of been hoping that she could have spent another hour or two with Kvasir, poring over maps of Vanaheim and laughing, talking, getting comfortable in the presence of each other. But alas, it seemed that that was not to be. 

“Okay, then,” she said, walking towards the door and closing her hand on the handle. “Once I open it, I’ll be pulled through, right?”

“Indeed,” Kvasir confirmed. 

Malina swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the door. She was about to open it, when—

“Oh, wait!” Kvasir suddenly exclaimed. Malina looked over at him, suddenly stupidly hopeful, only to see his retreating figure rushing off into the other room. A few moments later, he reemerged, his face lit up with excitement. He was holding something in his hand. He approached her, and pressed the object into her own hand.

Opening up her hand, Malina saw that she was holding a small pennywhistle. “What is this?”

“A pennywhistle,” Kvasir said, a bit redundantly. “But an enchanted one. If you ever find your way back to Vanaheim, and you need my help, or—” he faltered slightly “—or if you just want to visit, then just blow on the whistle, and you’ll be guided back here to my cabin.”

Malina couldn’t help but notice that his face was getting a bit red. Could it be that—?

No. She had to go. Now. 

“Thanks,” she said briskly, pocketing the pennywhistle. “I’ll see if I ever have use for it.” That must have come out a bit more harshly than she intended, because Kvasir’s face fell slightly. She wanted to apologize, but knew that she couldn’t stay there any longer.

“Thanks for all your help,” Malina said, turning away. “I owe you one.”

“It was no trouble,” Kvasir returned. “I only hope you find the chance to cash in your favor someday.”

Okay. Now she really had to go.

So, without another word, she vividly thought of her destination, and opened the door.

*** 

It was dark on the shore. Malina could barely see ten feet in front of her. The cold, brisk sea air chilled her, and made her suddenly long for the warmth of Kvasir again.

No, she reprimanded herself. Not the warmth of Kvasir. The warmth of Kvasir’s house. There was a distinction to be made there.

The more rational side of her tried to question why she was so adamant about pushing Kvasir away as she made her way down the shore to the sea’s edge, where she could see some sort of structure standing there. It argued that Kvasir was clearly interested, and that she had gone so long without anyone reciprocating her interest in them. She had gone so long without anyone loving her, so long without the intimate touch of another person. After everything she’d been through, why didn’t she deserve that? Why couldn’t she take advantage of the opportunity, and possibly find love again?

But the damaged side of her insisted that it was because of everything she’d been through, that she wasn’t allowed to love again. It just wasn’t possible for someone like her. A person who had done the things she’d done, a person that evil, barely deserved the redemption she’d been so graciously given. She certainly didn’t deserve infatuation, or romance, or love. 

She reached the structure and realized that it was a horn placed upon some sticks holding it up. Nordic runes were scrawled on a sign hanging around the horn. Admittedly, her runes were rusty, but she was pretty sure she saw the word “marmennill” in there somewhere. She figured that meant if she blew the horn, the marmennills would come.

So she blew the horn, and waited. And by the time the first bubbles started to appear on the water’s surface, she’d shoved all thoughts of Kvasir out of her mind. With any luck, she’d never have to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I definitely would have uploaded this one sooner, but I've been having...really mixed feelings about it. It feels like I'm forcing a love interest onto Malina, which I definitely don't want to do, but at the same time I wanna use her vague feelings for Kvasir to show how, like, fucked up Malina is and how detrimental this mysterious past event has been on her psyche? I'm not sure if this one is that great. Lemme know.
> 
> But anyway, Andrew and Malina are finally where they need to be in order to accomplish their tasks. Is Ethan? Stay tuned to find out!
> 
> The song for this chapter is "Guiding Light" by Muse. 
> 
> And "Kvasir" is pronounced as follows: "Kuh-VAH-sear"
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, as oddly constructed as it is, and I'll see you guys next time!


	31. To Glory

“Herc, you’re outta Gatorade!” Mars called as he opened up the last bottle of Gatorade and began chugging it down. Ethan watched from his stool at the kitchen counter as the sports drink disappeared down Mars’s throat with unsettling quickness. Then Mars crushed the bottle in his fist, and tossed it into the trashcan. “Can you get your boys to buy some more, preferably today? Red and purple would be great, but I guess I can deal with blue if you have to.”

“That fridge was fully stocked with Gatorade just last night,” Heracles grumbled as he emerged from his bedroom. “And stop calling me Herc.”

“Well, what am I supposed to call you?” Mars scoffed. “Heracles? That’s a mouthful. One-syllable names are easy for a reason.”

“Guys,” Ethan interrupted. “Can we stop fighting for just a moment and figure out how we’re gonna find a hydra today?”

Heracles scoffed. “If we haven’t found one by today, it’s unlikely that we’re ever going to.” In one fluid motion, Mars picked the crumpled Gatorade bottle up out of the trashcan and lobbed it at Heracles, who stepped back in surprise as it nailed him in the temple. “Ow! I’m just being honest with him, Mars!”

“Yeah, well, the honesty’s not really helping right now,” Ethan grumbled as he stared down at his iced tea resting on the counter in front of him. It was the seventh day. The seventh day. And they’d come no closer to finding even any sign of a hydra. Ethan would have thought that finding the hydra would have been the easy part, but no. Apparently hydras were “out of season”, according to the mortal beast trainer Alistair Bharne they’d tracked down a few days ago.

So now, here they were, about to allow the world to fall to total ruin, all because Heracles didn’t care enough to find the hydra and Mars only really cared about messing with Heracles. Ethan couldn’t do it alone. He was stuck in an impossible situation. 

“Ah, don’t worry, kid,” Mars said, patting Ethan on the shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We’ve still got until sundown, right?”

“Heracles is right,” Ethan grumbled. “If we haven’t found one by now, how are we gonna find one?”

He took a melancholy sip of his iced tea as Mars glared at Heracles. No sooner had Ethan set the glass back down on the counter when the elevator suddenly dinged.

They all looked over at it as one. “One of your bodyguards?” Mars asked as the doors began to open.

“No, I’ve been telling them not to bother us,” Heracles replied, sounding confused.

Ethan watched as someone who was definitely not one of Heracles’s bodyguards stepped out of the elevator. He was tall and slender, wearing a simple outfit: a button-down tucked into jeans, with a sleeveless vest overtop. He appeared well-built, and on his head he wore a battered brown fedora. All in all, the guy sort of reminded Ethan of Indiana Jones, only without the whip.

Although he had no clue who the guy was, Mars and Heracles seemed to. He watched as Heracles rolled his eyes and turned away, and Mars stared the guy down disdainfully. “Aristaeus,” he said flatly.

“Mars,” Aristaeus returned, smiling. He tipped his hat at Heracles in greeting before taking it off and tossing it on a nearby chair. He approached the counter and made unsettling eye contact with Ethan. “And you’re Ethan Locke, right?” He held out his hand. “Aristaeus.”

Ethan, feeling a bit uncomfortable, shook his hand anyway. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you too.”

“What are you doing here, Aristaeus?” Mars asked. “What could you possibly want?”

“You know, that’s really no way to talk to someone who can get you what you want,” Aristaeus tutted. “Might make them inclined to just…walk away.”

Heracles rolled his eyes again and groaned. “As if you have anything we could want. How did you even get up here?”

Ethan didn’t quite understand all the hatred for Aristaeus that was going on. But Aristaeus seemed unfazed; he coolly replied, “Had a sorceress make a spell for me. I cast it on your guards to make them go to sleep for a little bit.”

“You went through all this trouble just to end up in a room full of people who hate you?” Mars asked incredulously. “Damn, Ari, you are an idiot.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say everybody hates me,” Aristaeus said, looking back at Ethan. “You don’t, do you?”

“That’s because he doesn’t know you,” Heracles seethed. “He doesn’t know just what a monumental asshole you are.”

“Watch out for this guy, kid,” Mars whispered to Ethan. “Herc’s right on this one. Aristaeus is a grade-A dick, he’ll scam you out of house and home if you’re not careful.”

“I heard that, Mars, and frankly, I resent it,” Aristaeus replied.

“You can resent it all you want,” Mars shot back. “That doesn’t make it any less true.”

Aristaeus huffed. “Fine then,” he said, walking over to his hat and picking it up. “I guess I’ll just take my information on where to find a hydra and go, then.”

Ethan felt every part of his brain suddenly light up. No. He couldn’t let Aristaeus’s apparent asshole-ish-ness get in the way of finding the hydra. He shot up out of his chair, crying, “Wait! What did you just say?”

Aristaeus turned back towards Ethan, smirking. “See? There’s someone smart besides me here, after all.”

“How would you know where to find a hydra?” Mars sneered. “You’re just a glorified beekeeper.”

“Beekeeping isn’t my only area of influence, Mars,” Aristaeus retorted. “I also happen to be a god of husbandry and cattle herding.”

“Cool,” Heracles said sarcastically.

“But being that beekeeping is my strongest expertise,” Aristaeus continued, as if Heracles hadn’t spoken, “I happen to be quite good at keeping all sorts of dangerous animals.”

“Bees aren’t dangerous,” Ethan butted in. “They’re just doing their best.”

“They are to some,” Aristaeus said matter-of-factly. “But anyway, I’ve recently expanded the types of animals that I keep from bees and cattle to other, more high-risk creatures. It’s quite a thrill, I can tell you.”

“What does this have to do with a hydra?” Mars asked, sounding impatient.

“About three months ago I was given two hydra eggs by a good friend of mine,” Aristaeus explained. “It hatched a few days later, and since I’m sure you know that hydras grow at an alarmingly fast rate, I have myself quite a few hydras by now.”

“You realize we don’t just need a hydra, right?” Heracles interrupted. “We need to kill one.”

“Yes, yes, Alistair Bharne explained all that to me when he contacted me,” Aristaeus said. “And I might be willing to part with one of my older hydras—for the right price, of course.”

“I knew it,” Mars grumbled. “Nothing’s ever free with you.”

“What’s your price?” Ethan asked, not wanting to waste any more time. If they were gonna get the hydra, they had to get it right then.

“Woah, woah, kid, not so fast,” Mars said, reaching out and touching Ethan’s shoulder. “Don’t make a deal if you don’t know what it’ll cost you, especially with a guy like Aristaeus.”

“Whatever the price, I’ll pay it,” Ethan answered, steadfast. 

“Kid—”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Mars!” Ethan exclaimed, shoving the god away. He locked eyes with the war god, and hoped that he understood the fire in Ethan’s eyes. He would not budge. “The fate of the entire world is at stake. If I don’t kill that hydra, I don’t get that ring in the pyramid. And if I don’t get that ring now, I’ll never get it, and Tiamat will rise.” He swiveled back towards Aristaeus, who was eyeing Ethan with interest. “Give me your hydra, and I’ll give you whatever you want. You have my word.”

“Do you swear on the River Styx?” Aristaeus asked nonchalantly.

Ethan could suddenly feel Mars and Heracles’s stares on him, and he was acutely aware of the sweat that was suddenly rolling down his forehead. He knew the consequences of breaking a promise on the River Styx; and if he made that promise, but couldn’t keep it, he would meet a fate worse than death. This was a tense situation he’d suddenly found himself in. But he knew that there was only one way out.

“I swear,” Ethan replied. “On the River Styx.”

Ethan suddenly felt a powerful force wash over him. He knew that it was the Styx, binding him to his oath. He couldn’t break it now.

“Alright, you bound the kid,” Mars growled. “Now what do you want in return for this hydra?”

Aristaeus grinned and reached into his pocket. Ethan tensed; the closer it got to the reveal of what the god wanted, the more anxious Ethan got about his ability to keep his promise. But when all Aristaeus pulled out of his pocket was a newspaper clipping, Ethan found himself suddenly not feeling nervous but very confused instead.

“I’ve recently used my bees to create a new kind of honey, the sweetest you’ll ever taste,” Aristaeus explained, sliding the clipping across the counter to Ethan. Ethan picked it up and read it. It was an ad for honey; Sweet Ari’s Sweet Honeybee Nectar. “But unfortunately, sales are a bit low, seeing as how I’m a newcomer in the honey business. Would you mind buying a few jars? Maybe about a dozen? Just to boost sales. Every bit counts.”

“That’s it?” Ethan asked, incredulous. “You just want me to buy your honey?”

Aristaeus shrugged. “That’s the only thing I really need from you, yeah.” His eyes narrowed. “Would you prefer I ask for something more complicated?”

“No, it’s fine,” Ethan mumbled, shoving the clipping in his pocket. “I’ll buy your damn honey.”

“Excellent,” Aristaeus said, standing up and walking over to his hat. Picking it up and putting it on, he said, “My hydra will be released somewhere into Athens at noon today. You’ll know where, I imagine; he’s a bit feisty.” He tipped his hat at them as he pressed the elevator button. “Happy slaying!”

The elevator doors opened and Aristaeus stepped inside. They closed. And with that, he was gone just as quickly as he’d arrived.

“That was odd,” Ethan asserted.

“Any meeting with Aristaeus generally is,” Heracles mused. “To be frank, though, I thought he would ask you for something you couldn’t give just to force you to break your oath. He did that to the last person he forced to swear on the Styx.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed.”

“Gods don’t change,” Mars muttered. “He just wasn’t feeling particularly asshole-ish today.”

Heracles shrugged. “Whatever the case, we lucked out.” He walked over to the fridge, opened the door, and pulled out a slice of cold pizza after fishing around for a few moments. He took a big chomp into the crust. “We—”

“Okay, no,” Mars interrupted. “You have two different transgressions going on here: first, you’re eating it cold.”

“Cold pizza isn’t bad,” Ethan muttered.

“Screw off, kid,” Mars barked, quickly turning his attention back to Heracles. “Second, you started with the crust first? What kind of heathenry is that?”

Heracles rolled his eyes. “As I was saying,” he continued, largely ignoring Mars, “we should probably get out there. Aristaeus said the hydra would be released anywhere into Athens. If we wanna keep it from doing too much damage, we should maybe get going.”

“Oh, so now you’re suddenly keen on finding the hydra?” Ethan asked. “Just, like, ten minutes ago you were talking about giving up.”

“That was before Aristaeus made his offer,” Heracles shot back. “The sooner I’m out of this asshole’s debt—” Heracles gestured towards Mars with the pizza “—the better.”

Mars huffed. “You know what, Heracles, you can go f—”

***

It had taken hours of wandering until they found the hydra. Hours of traversing the streets, hours of nearly getting run over by reckless Greek drivers (and learning some new choice phrases in Greek as a result). And Mars had insisted on no rest, because if they sat down to rest, they would get “complacent.” Somewhere around Hour Four was when Ethan’s feet had begun to feel like they would be better off being detached from his body.

Eventually, Heracles had managed to convince Mars to take a lunch break at a nearby café. Ethan had never been more thankful to a single person in his entire life (discounting his mother, of course). 

Ethan didn’t know the name of the café, but it must have been exclusively for tourists, because they offered American dishes like burgers and fries, chicken fingers, pizza, the works. But Ethan was feeling particularly cultural, so he ordered apaki, which Heracles explained was lean pork marinated in vinegar, and then smoked with various aromatic herbs and spices. Apparently it was a Cretan specialty, but most Greek restaurants, on Crete or not, served it. At first, Ethan was suspicious of the “various aromatic herbs and spices,” but it actually turned out to be pretty good. Heracles had gotten something called spetsofai, which looked like sausage soup to Ethan. And Mars had ordered the chicken finger p  
platter.

As they ate, Heracles and Mars casually discussed battle strategy as if that was a common lunch topic. “So, after I distract two of the heads, you have to try and get the other three with the kid as fast as you can,” Mars was saying when Ethan tuned back in from thinking about how good his apaki was. “And remember—”

“Yes, yes, I know, burn the stubs so the heads can’t grow back,” Heracles said, sounding annoyed. “I’ve killed a hydra before, Mars. I know how it’s done.”

“It’s been a while,” Mars answered, shrugging as he shoved a fistful of fries into his mouth. “And you’ve been busy fighting humans in rigged matches ever since. Who knows, maybe you’ve lost your touch.”

“Wrestling isn’t rigged!”

“I thought it was,” Ethan piped up.

“See?” Mars said, pointing at Ethan. “Even the kid knows. Everybody knows wrestling is rigged, Herc, so stop acting like it’s not.”

“Wrestling isn’t rigged,” Heracles repeated adamantly. “Boxing is. And don’t call me Herc.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around,” Ethan said.

“It’s not!”

“Just stop,” Mars muttered as he went in to take a sip of his Coke. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Heracles scowled and angrily dug his fork into the spetsofai. Ethan let out a small chuckle, and Mars grinned at him and winked. Ethan took another forkful of his apaki, and then, glancing up, noticed a small crowd of people forming just a little ways off from the outside table they were seated at. A few of them were pointing at Heracles, and talking to each other in hushed whispers.

Ethan nudged Heracles and gestured over at the people. “Fans of yours?”

Heracles looked over, and sighed, picking up his napkin and wiping his mouth. “Unfortunately.” He stood up and made his way over to the people, saying something in Greek. The crowd immediately perked up, with some whipping out phones and cameras, while others took out pictures of Heracles accompanied by pens.

Ethan and Mars watched as Heracles posed for photos and signed autographs. “So he’s, like, actually a famous wrestler,” Ethan noted.

“I told you he was, kid,” Mars replied.

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think he was that famous,” Ethan said. “He can’t even go out to eat without being swarmed? That’s sad.”

Mars shrugged apathetically. “The price of stardom.”

No sooner had a very overeager young girl posed for a selfie with Heracles while nonchalantly groping his chest as she did, when suddenly, a monumental boom erupted from somewhere down the street. The tables shook, and several people in the crowd fell over, screaming. Mars had been taking a sip of his Coke, and it spilled all over his face. Ethan nearly choked on a piece of apaki that got caught in his throat. 

But the second he locked eyes with Mars, he knew. The mortals didn’t know it, but there was finally a hydra wandering the streets of Athens, and it had just made its presence known. Mars shot up out of his seat, shouting, “Herc! Time to go!”

Heracles didn’t even correct him this time; he left his fans behind and shot after Mars as the war god ran down the street. Ethan briefly though about stopping to see if the demigod’s fans were okay, but then he figured that there was no time for that. He followed the two immortals down the street, where he suddenly saw a tongue of flame erupt from behind a building. 

Ethan swallowed hard, his breathing suddenly becoming ragged as he ran. The hydra was here now. It was officially kill or be killed.

***

The carnage that the hydra had caused within five minutes of its arrival in Athens was incredible. A building that Ethan passed by had probably had more than three floors at some point, but now all it had to show for that was a pile of debris scattered all around it. He could hear the thundering footsteps of the hydra’s slow and enormous gait somewhere nearby, but as it stood, he couldn’t see it yet and didn’t know where it was. And having to push through the crowd of screaming people who were running the other way. 

Somewhere alongside him was Heracles. The two of them had lost Mars a long time ago. As Ethan nearly got knocked down by a woman frantically pushing a baby stroller in front of her, as the baby screamed and cried, he shouted over at Heracles, “What are they running from?”

“The hydra, I would guess!” Heracles shouted back as they ran, with a hint of condescension in his voice.

“No, I get that!” Ethan replied, jumping over a fallen hot dog stand. “But they can’t see the hydra, right? Because of The Wall? So what are they running from? What do they see?”

“Maybe they think it’s an earthquake!” Heracles offered. “I don’t know, I—”

Suddenly, a building somewhere off to Ethan’s left exploded, with debris raining down all over the crowd. The screaming mass of people ducked for cover and tried to run, but unfortunately, large chunks of them just weren’t lucky enough. Ethan watched in horror as a piece of metal slammed down onto the hood of a speeding car, sending it flipping through the air in what should have been an awesome action shot, but instead made for a horrific display of human mortality and the destruction this beast was causing.

Just when Ethan realized he was waxing poetic (again), a strong set of hands suddenly grabbed him and pulled him off to the side. Yelling and struggling to break free, Ethan then found himself being pushed up against a wall. He quickly regained his senses, and looked up to see Mars staring at him.

“Come on, kid!” he shouted, pointing at Heracles, who was rounding the corner next to them. “This way! It’s this way!”

Mars broke into a run after the demigod, and Ethan took a few moments to steady himself before following. 

Rounding the corner, Ethan finally laid eyes on it: the creature that Aristaeus had so recklessly released into the city, and the creature which was now killing thousands of innocent people as a result. The creature that Ethan had to kill. The hydra. 

Standing at a good fifty feet tall—at least—it looked to Ethan like most of its size and fear factor came from its heads. Its actual body stood at about what looked to Ethan like a Surtr and a half (which is to say, around twenty feet) and reminded Ethan of an oversized komodo dragon, but more compact and bulky. Gleaming scales covered its skin, and a sharp, dangerous looking tail whipped around behind it. But its necks must have been thirty feet tall, each, and were ribbed with spikes. And at the end of those necks were its heads.

With nine in total, Ethan watched as each one looked around at a different spot and seemed to have a mind of its own, like nine separate entities all attached to one body. A few of them kept bashing into buildings, and others were spitting acid down onto the wreckage and the few unlucky citizens who hadn’t managed to escape the blast zone yet. But the middle one? The middle one was breathing fire.

Ethan was suddenly aware that he was standing still, and that Mars and Heracles were running up to stand next to him. “Kid, what are you doing?” Mars shouted. “Come on, we gotta fight and kill this thing before it does any more damage!”

But Ethan could barely move. He was screaming at himself to respond to what Mars was saying, but he just couldn’t do it. Taking in the terror that was the hydra was taking up every mental facet that was currently active in his brain, as if it was hypnotizing him.

Heracles stepped in front of him, caught a glimpse of what must have been glazed-over eyes, and rolled his own. “I got this,” he said, before rearing back and decking Ethan across the face.

Ethan went down, the sheer strength behind the demigod’s punch leaving him reeling and disoriented. Everything went hazy for a few moments as his vision swam, but ultimately, the punch did him good; once he managed to regain control of his senses, he was back in control of himself. 

Reaching out to take the outstretched arm that Heracles had offered to help him up, Ethan said, “Thanks. I needed that.”

“Anytime.”

“Okay, so Herc, tell us what we need to know,” Mars ordered, grabbing the two of them and forcing them into a huddle.

“Don’t call me Herc,” Heracles corrected automatically before continuing. “The hydra’s got nine heads, as you can see. The four outermost have thick skulls and a lot of strength, which is why you see them bashing in buildings; because they have the endurance to do it. They’ll be the trickiest to sever, but the easiest to get to in terms of getting close enough to do that.”

He gestured back at the hydra. “Middle four heads spit acid. I don’t think I need to explain what’ll happen if you get hit by that.”

Ethan shook his head. “Not necessary.”

“And the middle one—” Heracles said, glancing behind him and gazing up at it “—breathes fire. It has the weakest connection to its neck, and will be the easiest to cut off. But it’s the smartest, and the most deadly. Although we have to save it for last, because—”

“How about this,” Mars spoke up, cutting Heracles off. “Kid goes for the skull-bashers, since they’re the least dangerous. I’ll take the acid-spitters. You fight Fire Guy.”

Heracles shrugged. “Good enough for me.” Mars was about to break the huddle, when the demigod added: “But as I was saying before you interrupted me, if you guys go out there all half-cocked and chopping off heads, then we’re gonna in even deeper shit than we are right now.”

“Because the heads grow back, right?” Ethan asked. “I remember that from when I read the myths about you.” The thought briefly crossed Ethan’s mind as to how insane that statement was. “You and Mars were talking about that earlier at the café. You have to burn the stubs, right?”

Heracles nodded. “Precisely. So what we have to do is, you guys chop off heads while I keep the middle head busy. And when you sever a head, you yell for me, and I’ll trick firebreather over there into burning his own head stubs. That way, we pick off each head one by one, until he’s the only one left. Then we gang up on him and cut him down, and then Ethan uses his fire magic to burn the last stub.”

“Why can’t I just do that for all the stubs?”

“Takes a lotta magical energy to summon fire big enough to burn a hydra stub, kid,” Mars answered. “Save that energy for the last head. It’s the hardest to burn, so we’ll need it.”

Heracles nodded again. “Exactly.”

“Okay, so we all have our parts of the plan?” Mars asked, looking at the two of them. Ethan nodded vigorously, while Heracles rolled his eyes. “Okay then. One, two, three, break!”

Mars broke the huddle, summoning a broadsword to his hand and charging towards the hydra, shouting at the top of his lungs, “To glory!” 

“Idiot,” Heracles muttered, breaking into a run after the war god. And Ethan, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t as strong as Heracles and didn’t have a weapon like Mars, timidly followed them, feeling incredibly anxious about the fight to come.

But nevertheless, he owed it to the people of Athens—and to the fate of the world—to fight anyway. So as Mars propelled himself through the air and onto the back of an acid-spitter’s neck, and as Heracles drew the attention of the firebreather, Ethan picked up a rock and threw it at the left outermost head, which was sniffing around at an abandoned and crushed car.

“Hey, ugly!” Ethan shouted as the rock connected with the beast’s skull. “You want a piece of me? I’m right here waiting!”

The hydra looked up, roared, and charged.

Well, charged wasn’t really the right word for it. The hydra’s body was still stationary, but the necks were so long that the head could come straight for Ethan with ease. And the closer it got, the more Ethan realized that drawing the hydra’s attention without first finding a weapon was probably a poor decision on his part.

The head whipped towards him, roaring and gnashing its teeth. Ethan readied himself to jump, and when the hydra was right in front of him, he was ready to jump upwards with his air magic. 

But the hydra must have been ready, because it immediately changed course and connected with Ethan faster than he could react. Ethan flew back from the force of the impact, crashing to the ground as pain flared all over his body. 

And he barely had time to lay there for just a second and recover, because the hydra was quickly back on him. The head suddenly appeared in his line of vision, roaring and going in for the kill. Ethan just barely managed to roll out of the way.

Once he was out of danger (but only for a split second), he scrambled to his feet and started to run, just trying to outrun the hydra head for long enough to come up with a plan. He passed by Mars getting slammed into the earth, creating a huge dent in the road, and the hydra head he was fighting came down, ready to spit acid. And Mars’s sword had been knocked out of his hands—and right to Ethan’s feet.

In a display of skill and magic Ethan had never before thought himself possible of, he used the air to propel himself forward and pick the sword up. The world around him seemed to slow down as he launched into the air, flipped around, and once more used the force of the air to slam the blade down onto the neck of the hydra head behind him. 

The force of the impact sliced the head clean off. It landed on the ground with a sickening squelch. But Ethan had no time to react or celebrate, because no sooner had he severed the head when he was throwing the sword back to Mars, who caught it with ease and thrust it upwards into the oncoming hydra head’s mouth. It roared and thrashed in pain, and Mars ripped the blade out and cut off the head.

“Thanks, kid!” Mars shouted, quickly getting to his feet. “Herc!” he yelled. “We got two for you!”

Ethan looked up to see Heracles on top of a crumbling building, distracting the firebreather hydra head. He heard the demigod shout, “Don’t call me Herc!” before jumping onto the hydra head and directing it towards the two stubs before slamming his fist down onto its skull.

Fire burst forth from the hydra’s mouth, almost like a reflex, engulfing both stubs quickly and sending Mars and Ethan reeling backwards to escape the sudden heat. When it finally died, the stubs were charred, and the severed heads began to melt.

“That means we’re in the clear, kid!” Mars shouted before swinging his sword in his hands and rushing off. “Keep going! Happy killing!”

Feeling the adrenaline rush and suddenly invigorated, Ethan took a step forward to go slay his next hydra head; how, he didn’t know, but he would do it somehow, because now he knew he could.

No sooner had he stepped forward when a powerful force suddenly pulled him backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, yeah, so it's been a while. I know. But a lotta shit's been going down in my life, so I haven't had a ton of time or energy to write. But today I finally got some time along with a burst of energy, and that's rare, so I knew I had to make the most of it. And...voila! The second installment of Ethan's side quest!
> 
> Damn, that hydra's pretty finicky, right? And our crew was just starting to beat it when somebody rudely interrupted and dragged Ethan out of the fight. Who could it be? Find out in a few chapters, if I ever get to them!
> 
> New pronunciations: Aristaeus = ar-ISS-tee-oos
> 
> Song used: "To Glory" by Two Steps From Hell (ooh, edgy, right?)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me (if you have) and I'll catch you guys next time (whenever that may be)!


	32. Steal Away

The karkadann fields were dark. There was no moon, only clouds covering the night sky. And Nyx’s shield of shadows wasn’t exactly helping with easing the darkness, Andrew noticed.

He could feel her, somewhere next to him. Apparently she had to be nearby in order for the cloak of darkness to work. Andrew wasn’t quite sure just how accurate that claim was; he felt like she was just sticking around to make sure he didn’t betray her. Which was a smart move on her part, because he probably would have. He maybe still would; as long as he had the dagger, he had the upper hand. He could kill her and escape quickly, and that would prevent him from having to skin the karkadann, which would take a long time and increase his chances of being noticed by Azizos. 

Nyx was doing something to him. That much was clear. Some dim part of Andrew’s mind told him that her presence was corrupting him in some way, making him think these things that he wouldn’t normally think. Andrew had lived his entire life without ever genuinely considering killing someone in cold blood, especially someone who had struck an honest deal with him. 

Nyx was a creature of darkness. Perhaps her being there was bringing out the darkness in him.

There were reports of it happening. Andrew had heard tell a long time ago of the Welsh god Gronw Pebr, a pure being of light, slaughtering an entire village after spending an hour alone with Kuk, the Egyptian embodiment of darkness. The gods of darkness and night did things to the people they came in contact with, twisting them into letting their evil sides free for just a few fleeting moments, and then leaving them in the dust of the aftermath of their actions.

Andrew sincerely hoped that his situation didn’t turn out as poorly as Gronw Pebr, who had supposedly been executed.

The dagger in Andrew’s hand suddenly wobbled, unbidden. Andrew knew that it was Nyx, telling him that a karkadann was nearby. He certainly couldn’t see it; he was, quite literally, shrouded in complete darkness. The most he could see was a few feet in front of him.

He decided it was high time to change that. There was a spell that Orunmila, an African god of wisdom and divination, had taught him a long time ago for sight in even the darkest of nights. “Napenda kuona kupitia giza,” Andrew whispered, and suddenly the world around him was lit up in the smoky grayness of the Duat. Because technically, this spell wasn’t granting him night vision, but rather allowing him to lower his vision into the Duat and view the world from there.

The darkness around him hummed. He wasn’t sure if it was a good hum or a bad hum, but Nyx obviously felt something towards him using the spell. Frankly, Andrew didn’t really care either way.

Now that he could actually see, he laid eyes on the karkadann that Nyx was alerting him to. It was right in front of him, asleep, its back to him. It looked peaceful, with is massive chest slowly expanding and deflating as it slept. Andrew gripped the dagger tighter, steeling his resolve against the task ahead of him.

He took another step closer, suddenly realizing that this was a very big karkadann. If it woke up, he would have one hell of a fight on his hands; because as peaceful and gentle as the creatures were, they were still animals. Just like a cornered dog, it would fight back if it realized it was about to die. 

Taking a deep breath, Andrew took the final step to close the gap between him and karkadann, and raised the dagger high. But Nyx stopped him.

“No,” she whispered through the darkness. “The skin cannot be broken.”

Andrew couldn’t believe this curveball. “Are you serious? And you didn’t think to tell me this before now?” he hissed back.

“Figure it out, Anshar,” was her only reply.

As if the moral quandary over killing an innocent creature wasn’t hard enough, now Andrew had to figure out how to use a dagger to kill it without breaking skin. He scanned the creature’s body, trying to find a way in. So far, his only option was looking like its rear end, but how was a dagger shoved up the thing’s ass going to kill it?

Then his eyes fell on its head, and he realized his only real option. He had to go through the mouth, shove the blade through the roof hard enough to pierce the brain. It would be messy, and difficult to get his arm in there without waking it up just so it could bite his arm off, but it was his only choice. He could have tried through the eyes, but karkadann eyes were beady, and the dagger’s blade was wide; there was too much of a risk that he’d accidentally ruin the skin around it. 

Andrew felt the darkness around him hum as Nyx gleaned his decision from his thoughts. The hum, he could tell, was one of approval. He threw a curse her way, as long as she was in the business of reading his thoughts. She just hummed again, this time in even more approval. Andrew shook his head, disgusted with her.

He slowly tiptoed his way around the sleeping creature’s body, trying to figure out a way to get its mouth open. He was standing right in front its face when he finally realized why the karkadann had seemed so huge—because it wasn’t just one.

Curled up in the karkadann’s stubby arms, resting peacefully against its mother’s chest, was a baby karkadann. Not a newborn, judging by its size, but if it still was sleeping so close to its mother, then it was too young to care for itself. Andrew’s heart sank.

He turned to go find another one. He couldn’t, in good conscience, kill this karkadann. It had a child that needed it to survive. But the darkness suddenly buzzed in anger, tightening around him and stopping him from moving. Nyx’s message was clear. 

“Why this one?” Andrew whispered into the shadows around him. “Why can’t I kill another one?”

“This one has the strongest skin,” she answered. “I won’t accept anything less.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“And why is that?”

“I think you just want me to kill a mother,” Andrew spat.

“Anshar,” Nyx purred. “What on earth would make you think that?”

“Because you’re a sick, sadistic bitch?”

Nyx fell silent, and didn’t speak again. Andrew assumed that that meant the conversation was over. But still, she would not let him move, no matter how hard he tried. She was forcing him to either kill this exact karkadann, or break their deal and let the entire world down. It was a heartbreaking decision to have to make.

But he turned. Nyx whispered, “Here,” and sent out a shadow that gently unwrapped the baby from its mother’s grasp, and pushed it far enough away so that it wouldn’t get in the way. Both creatures remained asleep the entire time, likely through a spell of Nyx’s. He wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but Andrew was secretly grateful.

He knelt down in front of the beast, and gently opened its mouth as slowly and carefully as he could. For the first time, he noticed a shadowy tendril extending from the darkness around him and touching the karkadann’s head. He was right; Nyx was keeping it asleep so it wouldn’t wake up as he did what he had to do. And again, he was grateful.

Its mouth pried open, Andrew gripped the dagger and braced himself. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn’t risk somehow accidentally missing. So he kept them open, and in a burst of courage, thrust the blade upwards into the roof of its mouth. It made a sickening squelching sound as it traveled upwards through the beast’s head.

But it wasn’t the repulsiveness of the sound that made Andrew fall backwards in horror and guilt. It was the fact that, just as he pushed the blade in, the beast’s eyes flew open, and it made a soft, confused grunting sound as the life quickly left them.

Nyx had done it. To mess with him, throw him off. Andrew was sure of it. She had been keeping it asleep, and he’d been stupid to assume that she wouldn’t have woken it up just so he could watch it die. 

He pushed these thoughts outwards, radiating anger, knowing that she was listening. But no response, verbal or otherwise, was given. Again, the message was clear. 

Andrew reached forward and pulled the dagger out of the creature’s mouth, dragging out fountains of blood and small pieces of brain with it. He gagged, dropping the dagger in disgust. The darkness again buzzed angrily. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Andrew muttered irritably. “I’m getting to it.”

Resisting the urge to vomit at the sight, he picked up the dagger and wiped it off on the grass. He glanced behind him, looking at the still-sleeping form of the baby. A mistake. His resolve suddenly weakened, and his thirst for vengeance against Nyx for forcing him to do this—a thirst that was only made stronger by her dark, evil presence—was made stronger.

She sensed it, of course. She had to have. But oddly enough, she did nothing about it; didn’t try to stop him, or punish him in any way. Nyx let him sit there, turning the dagger slowly in his hand, contemplating whether or not he should do it. Almost as if she knew, without a doubt, that he never would.

And she was right. Andrew sighed, and turned back to the karkadann. In the long run, it was better for him to just get this over with, and clear his conscience of it later, rather than try to kill Nyx and run. So he took another deep breath, and went to cut off the horn.

“No,” Nyx hissed. “The skin first. Then the horn.”

Andrew sighed. She was going to be difficult about it, force him to satisfy her end of the deal first. Whatever, he could live with it. So instead, he went to make the first incision: cutting outwards from the hole in the mouth, until the blade was beneath the skin without breaking said skin.

“Careful now,” Nyx whispered as he cut, startlingly close to his ear. Andrew jumped, nearly slicing the knife outwards and breaking the skin. He cursed under his breath. She was right there, he could feel her; but he couldn’t see her. She had melded into the shadows around him—a fact that made trying to kill her seem even more like the worst possible option, as much as he still wanted to do it. 

“You break the skin, you break our deal,” she reminded him. “So watch where you cut, Anshar.”

“If you could stop interrupting me, there’d be no risk of that,” Andrew grumbled. There was no reply, and he felt her leave his side, relenting. Relieved to be left alone for the time being, he finally got the blade beneath the skin, and got to work.

It was difficult work. He had to go slowly and carefully, inching the blade forward, little by little. Hours must have passed as he painstakingly lifted each tiny little centimeter of skin from the karkadann’s body, exposing muscle and sinew and fighting the urge to gag. The worst part was that he couldn’t agree on what was the worst part: was it the smell of the decaying body, or the sight of the beast’s inner workings suddenly becoming outer?

Nyx fortunately respected his wishes and didn’t speak to him, though he could feel her there, watching. He knew she wanted him to mess it up. He could feel it. Then she would be able to twist him into some even sicker, more evil deal, because she knew he needed a karkadann horn and she was his best option at getting it within the timeframe. And it was that knowledge that made Andrew even more determined not to mess up. He didn’t care how long it took (well, he did, but he figured he could be careful and still do it before the sun rose). 

She only spoke once he had lifted the skin off of the hind legs and was beginning to work on the rear end—the last leg of the job, so to speak. “Good work, Anshar,” she whispered to him. “Excellent work indeed. Our time together is almost finished.” She said that last part with a hint of a pouty, flirty tone. Andrew ignored it. Nyx wasn’t his type.

It took what he gauged to be about another half hour, but finally he was scraping the last of the skin off of the beast’s tail. The last of it slid off of the karkadann’s body with a small squishing sound, and fell limp to the ground. Andrew sat back, breathing heavily, having been so lost in concentration that he hadn’t really regulated his breathing right. He let the dagger drop to the ground and surveyed his work.

It was disgusting, and vile, and one of the worst things he’d ever done—but it was just that. Done. Finally.

Suddenly, the shadows around them expanded, and through the seeing spell he had cast earlier, Andrew could finally see Nyx standing there. She stood over the shed karkadann skin, inspecting it. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands a few times, making sure there were no cuts or tears, that it was all intact. It was. Andrew had been careful.

Nyx smiled. “Well, Anshar, I must admit: I didn’t really think you had it in you. But you managed to do it.” Her hands glowed a dark purple, and the skin melted into a shadow that her hands then absorbed. She kicked the dagger over to him. “And now that I have my skin, I intend to honor our deal, as I am so prone to doing.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “I’m sure.”

“Do you want your horn or not, Anshar?” Nyx replied. It sounded like a warning. So, Andrew complied. He silently picked up the dagger, knelt down, and sawed off the horn. It had been grueling work to cut around the horn, but he’d managed to do it. 

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Anshar,” Nyx said, extending a hand. “I can only hope we meet again in less…strenuous circumstances in the future,” she added with a flirty smile.

“And here I was hoping we’d never meet again,” Andrew replied, holding out his hand to shake hers.

She pulled back. “No, Anshar. The dagger. I want the dagger.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

Nyx laughed. “There was another part to our deal, remember, Anshar? I would keep Azizos from pursuing you after you killed the beast.”

Andrew’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Right.” He’d forgotten about that part. And the fact that she wanted the dagger only confirmed his earlier suspicions about the fact that her idea of taking care of Azizos was killing him.

He turned the dagger over once in his hand, and for a split second, the darkness Nyx was emanating seeped into him again, and he considered killing her again. It would be so easy. He had the weapon. And she wasn’t in the shadows anymore; she couldn’t glean his thoughts now, wouldn’t know it was coming. All he had to do was lash out now, and drive the blade deep into her heart, and it would all be over. Azizos wouldn’t have to die, the skin wouldn’t have to be used for whatever nefarious purposes Nyx had in mind, and Andrew could get away scot-free.

He steeled himself for the attack, and took a step forward. 

And held out the dagger for Nyx to take. She smiled and took it from him, and he took a step back. Andrew wouldn’t let her darkness corrupt him. He only killed when he had to. The karkadann had unfortunately had to die. Nyx, as awful as she was, didn’t. 

“I wish you the best of luck on your quest, Anshar,” Nyx said, sounding sincere. “I really do. And I still recommend that you leave as soon as you can. El may not be able to touch you here, but it will take me some time to reach Azizos. You don’t want to incur his wrath before I do.”

She was right. So he nodded, offered up a meager and half-hearted, “Thanks,” and watched as she took a step back and disappeared into the shadows. A second later, the darkness around him melted. Nyx was gone, so he had to be, too.

Making sure he was holding the karkadann horn tightly in his hands, he created the portal to Giza and stepped through, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an uneventful chapter, I know, but at least Andrew's portion of the quest is finally done. He's on his way to Giza, and meanwhile, Malina and Ethan are still doing what they need to do. Are they gonna be able to do it? Find out if I ever get around to writing those chapters!
> 
> I don't think there are any new pronunciations for this chapter, so the song is "Steal Away" by Mary J. Blige, ft. Pharrell. 
> 
> Until next time!


	33. Curiosity

“How much farther?”

The marmennill called Gulfast looked back at Malina with disdain. “You keep asking that question. At what point do you expect the answer to be different?”

“Probably when we get closer?”

Gulfast rolled his eyes. “If you truly are that incapable of being patient, we are not far off.” He pointed ahead to a spot craggy underwater cliff they were swimming along, just ahead of them. Malina followed his gaze, seeing how it curved off out of sight, and spotting a shimmering light streaming out from somewhere behind the cliff that she hadn’t noticed before. “That light comes from Njorlis. We will be there momentarily.”

After that, Gulfast fell silent and kept swimming. Malina, satisfied with his finally giving her an actual answer to the question she’d been asking for what felt like hours, decided to take the last of their journey to take in the view.

The Eastern Sea, while probably very pretty from above, was nothing short of stunning underwater. Dawn was just breaking high above them, and although Malina had no idea just how deep they were, they were just close enough to the surface that fluorescent beams of multicolored light shot down throughout the water all around them. A coral reef lined the walls of the cliff next to her, and strange fish that she’d never seen before—but which were just as beautiful and vibrant as the coral—swam around it in perfect synchronization. 

It was breathtaking, and Gulfast was swimming through it all with a look of vague irritation on his face. Though, Malina reasoned, that was probably more directed at her than anything else, and he’d probably seen all of this a million times anyway.

After blowing into the horn on the Eastern Sea, Malina had only had to wait a few minutes before Gulfast had emerged from the water, introducing himself as the travelers’ guide to Njorlis, the marmennills’ underwater city.

“Name?” he’d asked her.

“Malina,” she’d responded, “sun goddess of the Inuit peoples.”

“Business?”

“Uh…” Probably bad form to outright say what she was really there for. “I seek audience with your Elder.”

Either it was ridiculously easy to get an appointment with the Elder Marmennill, or Gulfast just didn’t care. Likely the latter, given his attitude. He’d simply shrugged and beckoned for her to follow him into the water. 

Malina had thought he would have given her a magic air bubble or something like that, but instead, he’d simply touched his finger to her head and said, “You can now breathe underwater. Come, follow me.” And that was that.

The journey so far had taken quite some time, and unfortunately, that had left Malina with too much time to think. She thought a lot about Kvasir. Meeting him had unearthed a lot of feelings and trauma that she would have rathered stay down. It wasn’t that she expected Kvasir to whisk her off her feet and teach her how to love again. That was stupid, and Malina wasn’t stupid. But it had been quite some time since she’d found someone attractive, and gotten the sense that they reciprocated. She didn’t know what to do about that. 

And the pennywhistle—had he wanted her to come back, or was that just the hopelessly romantic part of her hoping against hope that she could actually find happiness? Malina was moving too fast, and she knew that; she and Kvasir were still total strangers. But she had been so unhappy for so long, distracting herself from her sadness and her fear and her pain by throwing herself into her work with the Chevaliers, that even the remotest spark of a chance at breaking that cycle was sending her into a tailspin. And that wouldn’t do. She had a job to get done.

Hecate had given her a second chance at life. As much as the two of them butted heads, Malina knew that she had no right to let the goddess down. Kvasir had to be put on the back burner for now. Getting the scales was her top priority.

It wasn’t long until she and Gulfast rounded the corner around the cliff, and Njorlis finally came into view. Whatever Malina had been expecting, it wasn’t this. 

Njorlis was like an underwater New York City. It was built onto a plateau jutting out from the side of the cliff. Even from far away, Malina could hear the sounds of car horns and sirens. Skyscrapers (surface-scrapers?) made of coral littered the cityscape, and bright, multicolored lights shone from just about every building. The water was hazier around the city, as if it was polluted—which, now that Malina thought about it, it probably was. As she and Gulfast got closer, Malina could see that the foot traffic was just as heavy as the actual traffic. The sidewalks were jam-packed with marmennills and mermaids alike dressed in all kinds of clothing, from suits and dresses to hoodies and jeans (all of which were tailored to fit their tail fins), bustling about their days. 

It was like nothing Malina had ever seen before. Even as she and Gulfast stopped just outside an archway leading into the city, she still couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. It took her a few moments before she registered that Gulfast was talking to her.

“What? Sorry.”

He grumbled irritably. “I was giving you directions to Cyraenil’s building. He is our Elder. Were you even listening.”

Why lie? “No.”

Gulfast groaned. “I will only say them once more. Listen this time.”

Malina nodded. “I’m all ears, buddy.”

Pointing into the city through the archway, Gulfast said, “This entrance into Njorlis will take you down Lungfish Lane. Take the third left onto Snapper Street, and from there, the second right onto Albacore Avenue. Topminnow Tower is only a short walk down the street from there; you can’t miss it.” He arched an eyebrow. “Any questions? Did you get all of that this time?”

“I got it, thanks,” Malina said. “But what do I do once I get to Topminnow Tower?” Just saying the name out loud felt weird. The marmennills seemed to be fans of using alliterative fish names to name their landmarks. Malina wasn’t a fan of it.

“Cyraenil’s office is on the top floor. As for how you get there, that’s up to you,” Gulfast said unhelpfully. “Anything else?”

He wasn’t going to be much help, Malina realized, so she thanked him for bringing her to Njorlis and sent him on his way. She watched him as he swam off and out of sight, going back to his post. Malina was beginning to understand the source of Gulfast’s attitude. If she had to wait out for the rare traveler to Njorlis and barely ever get to go back home, she would be a little grumpy, too. But she’d heard the stories about marmennills before, and really, they all just seemed to be like that. 

Malina turned towards the archway and noticed that Lungfish Lane wasn’t as crowded as some of the other streets she’d seen. Maybe it was a back road, she figured. Whatever the case, she was grateful for the sparse crowds. If all marmennills had attitudes like Gulfast, then she wanted to be around as few of them as possible. Malina might have been the queen of attitude, but she could only take so much from others before she snapped.

***

Even from far away, Topminnow Tower was very obviously the tallest building in the entire city. As Malina paddled her way down Albacore Avenue, it looked gargantuan. 

The crowds of merpeople that milled about the street looked a lot more professional than the ones Malina had seen on Lungfish Lane. If Njorlis had a Wall Street, Malina was pretty sure that this was it. Marmennills in suits and mermaids in dresses and pantsuits filed in and out of the revolving door in the tower, most of them looking and acting like they were late for something. Malina could relate.

Although she got a few weird looks, most of the people around her didn’t give her so much as a glance. Maybe visitors to Njorlis were more commonplace than she’d thought; or maybe they just didn’t care about her. Malina hoped it was the latter. She preferred to fly under the radar when she could. It wasn’t her fault that she almost never could.

Pushing her way through the revolving door and into the tower’s lobby, she felt a sense of triumph surge through her. Here she was, finally at her destination, and she still had time to get the scales and portal out. After a few moments, however, the feeling faded, as she realized that she didn’t know where to find Cyraenil.

So, she did what normal people did: she swam up to the receptionist.

The desk, like everything else in the city (so it seemed), was made of coral. Behind it floated a young mermaid writing something down on a notepad. Her name plate read Tonna. A small little bell sat next to the plate. After waiting at the desk for a few moments with no response, Malina cleared her throat and dinged it.

Tonna looked up and sighed, setting her notepad down. “May I help you?”

The mermaid’s condescending tone immediately irritated Malina. “I don’t know, can you?”

Rolling her eyes, Tonna picked her notepad back up. “Guess not.”

“I’m here to see Cyraenil, your Elder,” Malina said, deciding not to antagonize the mermaid any further—although, given Tonna’s gods-ugly pantsuit, Malina had a lot of material to work with if she wanted to.

“Name?” 

“Malina, sun goddess of the—”

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t care what your title is,” Tonna interrupted, picking up an appointment book. “Do you have an appointment with Elder Cyraenil?”

“Um…well, no, but—”

“  
"Then your request is unfortunately denied,” Tonna replied with a disgusting amount of faux sweetness. 

“This is important,” Malina said.

“That’s what everyone says. But no appointment means no audience.” 

“If you could just—”

Tonna looked up at Malina irritably, like she was a fly buzzing around the mermaid’s head. “Oh, I’m sorry, but why are you still here? I thought I made it pretty clear—no appointment, no audience. Maybe come back next week, when he actually has an opening. Or you could—”

Screw it. Malina was through trying to be polite. She leaned over the desk and slammed her hand down onto the bell, garnering a startled jump from Tonna. Malina locked eyes with the mermaid and said through gritted teeth, “Listen up, bitch. My name is Malina, sun goddess of the Inuit peoples. I have been sent here on a mission from Hecate herself, the queen of all magic, to speak to your Elder. I don’t have time to wait until next week. I don’t even have time to wait until the end of the day. So, either you get me an audience with your Elder right now, or you and I are gonna have a problem.”

Tonna was silent for a few moments. Then, she begrudgingly reached out to a conch shell sitting on the desk next to her. She picked it up, brought it to her ear, and said, “Cyraenil’s office, please.”

Malina stood there and waited.

“An unexpected request for an audience. Uh-huh,” Tonna said into the shell. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks, Hjorlief.” She set the shell down, and said to Malina, with a hint of disappointment in her tone, “The Elder has a few extra minutes before his next meeting. He’s agreed to see you, so long as you make it quick.”

Tonna picked up a small crystal and placed it on the desk in front of Malina. “Touch this. It will take you to the top floor. Cyraenil’s assistant Hjorlief will take you to his office.”

Malina flashed a smile at Tonna. “Thanks so much, sweetie.”

The look of irritation and vague repulsion made for a very satisfying final image as Malina placed her hand on the crystal and felt herself being pulled through space.

***

Malina rehearsed her lines in her head as Hjorlief, Cyraenil’s very fashionable and handsome secretary, led her down the hallway to the Elder’s office. 

She’d never been very good at being diplomatic, of course—that was always Andrew’s thing. Even her attempts to be nice to Tonna had backfired spectacularly the second the mermaid had shown a hint of attitude, something that seemed to be abundant among marmennills. So far, every marmennill she’d met—Gulfast, Tonna, even Hjorlief—wasn’t exactly brimming with sweetness and kindness. Cyraenil would likely be no different, so Malina really had to watch what she said around him.

She had a basic idea of what she’d say: _thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me_ , and _you run a lovely city_ , and maybe even _your office looks nice_ if it actually did. But so far, Malina was coming up totally blank on how she would ask for the scales. 

Unfortunately, she was out of time to think. Hjorlief stopped in front of two big frosted glass doors, pivoting towards her and saying, “You have about seven minutes before Elder Cyraenil’s next meeting. I’d make the most of them.”

Malina wasn’t sure if that was a well-wish, or a snide comment. In any case, she decided to ignore it. She needed to think diplomatic, and didn’t need some uppity little merman bitch breaking her out of that.

Hjorlief pushed one of the doors open, and Malina swam inside. The door swung silently shut behind her, but Cyraenil must have sensed her somehow, because he didn’t even turn around when he said, “Malina, right?”

Cyraenil was gently floating (as opposed to Malina, who had to continuously paddle just to stay in the same spot, and she was getting she really damn tired of it) in front of enormous tempered glass windows that lined the far wall of the office. His desk sat in the exact center of the room, and was made out of wood—the first time Malina had seen anything other than coral or glass since coming to Njorlis. On top of the desk was a small glass award reading _38th Annual EconCon—1st Place_. Three coral chairs sat on Malina’s side of the desk. Beyond that, the office wasn’t much; it was spacious, but very minimalistic, with no decoration other than a painting of a marmennill that Malina assumed was Cyraenil hanging up on the wall to her right.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Elder Cyraenil?”

He chuckled. “The one and only.” He turned to face her, and Malina saw that it was, in fact, him in the painting. Cyraenil had the type of face that she’d come to associate with those rich old white mortals in the world above—rotund, wrinkly, and a bit saggy. He was balding, and his suit was too small for him; it stretched dangerously taut over a paunch belly that jiggled a little too much in the slight current in the room for Malina’s liking. 

Cyraenil swam to his desk and gestured towards the chairs. “Please, have a seat.”

“Uh…” Malina looked down at her feet, which were struggling to keep her in the same spot, “…I’m not so sure I can.”

Cyraenil harrumphed. “Right. Of course. My apologies. We’ll just do this meeting standing, I suppose,” he added with a very clear note of disdain. Malina fought the urge to roll her eyes, and instead launched into her rehearsed pleasantries.

“Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me, Elder Cyraenil,” she said. “From what I’ve seen of it, Njorlis really is a lovely city. You’ve done a great job with it.”

It seemed meager to Malina, but Cyraenil smiled as if his ego was physically expanding. “Oh, why, thank you. It’s been a rocky few thousand years, I’ll admit, but the marmennills have finally cemented our place among the great venture capitalists and weapons providers of the world.” He laughed. “We sure have come a long way from a bunch of primitive fish people hiding in underwater caves and delivering nutty prophecies, hmm?”

Malina nodded. “Oh, yes, of course.”

She wanted to try and use his mention of prophecies to segue into her requests, but Cyraenil plowed right on as if she hadn’t even spoken. “You know, just last year, our startup oil company, Eastern Oil, was ranked as number 461 in the Fortune 500,” he said proudly. “Do you know what Fortune 500 is?”

Malina didn’t like his tone. “Yes. Of course I do.”

His smile was anything but pleasant. “Smarter than most goddesses, then, eh? You should know that it’s an incredible honor to even make it onto the list, then.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Malina said drily. She was beginning to get impatient. 

“I’m sure the Aesir up in Asgard think they’re all that, what with Thor’s contractor business—heavens know I’ll never remember the name,” Cyraenil continued. “But Eastern Oil is really on the up-and-up. Our economists think we could break the 300’s on Fortune 500’s list by the end of the year. And Thor’s business—I think it’s called Thunder Homes?—is currently sitting at 378 and hasn’t really moved anywhere.” Cyraenil flashed Malina a smug smile. “You can deliver that message to him, sweetheart. Thunder Homes has nothing on Eastern Oil. We’ll leave him in our dust.”

“Excuse me?” Malina asked. “Deliver Thor a message?”

Cyraenil arched an eyebrow. “Is that not why you’re here? I assumed Thor sent you to check up on the competition.”

Malina fumed silently, but she was thankful for the opportunity to finally get somewhere with their conversation—if it could even be called one. “No. I’m actually here on very important business from the goddess Hecate.” She gritted her teeth. “And, uh…Loki, too, I guess.”

Cyraenil furrowed his brow. “Hecate and Loki? Haven’t heard those names in a while. Well, sweetheart, what is it that they need?”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” Malina said automatically. Although she meant it, she immediately regretted it when Cyraenil’s expression clouded. She’d needed to stay agreeable and now she’d messed up.

“I mean…it’s sort of distracting, isn’t it?” she said, throwing him a dazzling smile and trying to do damage control. “And the last thing I’d want is to distract you from all the important work you’re doing. I can just get what Hecate and Loki need, and then I can go.”

Fortunately, it worked. “Very well,” Cyraenil said swimming around his desk to her. “Just tell me what they need and I can probably give it to you. I’m a very powerful man, you know.” It occurred to Malina once she saw his lopsided smile that he was hitting on her. She fought the urge to gag and tried to continue to play her part.

“Well…” Malina figured the prophecy would be the easier request. “Loki needs a prophecy. He said you uncovered it a few days ago? He didn’t give me a lot of details, but he said you’d know the one he wants.”

“Oh, a prophecy?” Cyraenil asked. “That’s easy. And we’ve only found one prophecy in the past few weeks, so yes, I know exactly which one you mean.” He swam past her, his body grazing hers for just a little too long as he did. Malina shuddered with revulsion once he was past her and silently flipped him off behind his back.

Cyraenil swam up to the wall and placed his hand on it. The area around his hand glowed, and a hidden compartment in the wall slid open. Cyraenil reached inside and pulled out a small, rolled-up scroll, stamped shut with a wax seal. He swam back over to her, picked up her hands, and placed it into them. Malina wanted to scream. 

“There you are, darling,” he said, still flashing her that disgusting smile. Malina had to physically remove her hands from his. “Well, that takes care of one thing. What was the other that you needed?”

“Uh…” Malina was sure to give him her best cute puppy face before asking. “I just need five scales from you, Elder Cyraenil. Nothing too big, right?”

Malina’s heart plummeted into her stomach as he backed away from her, frowning. “Hmm. Actually, my dear, that is too big. No can do on that one, I’m afraid.” He swam back towards his desk. Malina paddled after him desperately.

“But—but Elder Cyraenil, sir, Hecate really needs—”

“Does it look like I care much what Hecate wants?” Cyraenil asked, turning to face her as they both stopped at his desk. “She’s an old goddess. She still dabbles in magic and the ancient ways. She’s the epitome of progression hindrance. Why, if it were up to people like Hecate, the world would still be in the Stone Age!” He shook his head. “We marmennills know the value of moving forward. We also know the value of our scales. If someone like Hecate needs even one of them, let alone five, we know better than to agree.”

“Cyraenil, please, if you would just—” Malina was beginning to lose her cool.

“No,” the Elder marmennill said firmly. “Now, please leave. I have nothing more to say to you, and my next meeting is in two minutes.”

“Cyraenil—”

“What part of no don’t you understand?” Cyraenil shouted, irritated. “I swear to all the gods, dumb goddesses like you can never take no for an answer.” He turned and began to swim away. “Be thankful I was feeling gracious enough to give you one of the things you came here begging me for. Now, get the hell out of my office, sweetheart.”

Malina saw red. Panic seized her, and it was like she no longer had control over her body. She really didn’t know why she did what she did next. She just knew that she had to do something. She’d come too far to fail now. And there wasn’t a chance in all the worlds that she was letting this dick get away with talking to her like that. 

Malina reached out, grabbed the 1st Place award atop Cyraenil’s desk, and swung. It shouldn’t have been possible with all the water resistance, but she swung with so much force that the glass award connected with the Elder marmennill’s head with a sickening crack. Cyraenil had never even seen it coming. He crumpled, knocked unconscious, drifting aimlessly to the top of the room. A small trail of blood from the wound snaked out of Cyraenil’s head as he went.

Malina let go of the award, which was now stained with the Elder’s blood, and simply stared at Cyraenil’s unconscious form, horrified. She’d come into this room dead-set on staying polite and orderly, and now she’d attacked (and possibly killed) the Elder Marmennill. Amidst all the alarm bells that were ringing in her head, one thought burst through, bright and clear: Get the scales and run.

So, she did. Assuming marmennills were punctual creatures, and Malina had no reason to believe they weren’t, then she had less than two minutes to find a way to rip off two of Cyraenil’s scales before she was discovered by whoever was attending the Elder’s next meeting. She pulled herself together enough to summon some magic, and harnessed some of the light streaming into the room, fashioning it into a dagger.

Malina swam up to Cyraenil and went to work. She dug the dagger’s blade into the marmennill’s side, chipping a lot of the scales and tearing them off. Malina cast those aside. The scales probably needed to be unbroken, so she would only accept unbroken ones if possible. 

Carefully edging the blade underneath a row of scales, Malina pushed upwards. One, two, three scales came off with ease. She pocketed them, and accidentally chipped a fourth. Panic began to bubble up within her again. How much longer did she have? Less than a minute, probably.

She cut off one more scale. Then she heard voices coming from down the corridor, recognizing Hjorlief’s among them. The cavalry was coming, and Malina was out of time. 

She shoved the knife under a final row of scales and thrust. Most of them cracked, but miraculously, one of them didn’t. That made five scales. Now, Malina had to get out.

Clutching the prophecy in one hand and the scales in the other, Malina conjured a portal leading to Asgard on the window next to her. She had only just made it through when she heard the door open, and Hjorlief scream.

*** 

Waiting in Asgard was making Malina tense.

Loki’s instructions had been to come back to the entry room, where the statue of Odin and Freyja towered over her, their eyes boring into her as if they knew what she’d done. Where was Loki? She had to hand over the prophecy.

Realistically, Malina knew that it hadn’t even been an hour since she’d arrived in Asgard from Vanaheim, but every minute that ticked by was absolute torture. The marmennills would be sending someone after her. They had to. She’d heard Hjorlief’s scream—they had seen the carnage she’d inflicted upon their Elder. The longer she was in Asgard, the less safe she was. So, where the hell was Loki?

Malina nervously patted her pocket, where the scales rested. Every few minutes, she had this compulsive need to check and make sure they were still there, even though rationally, she knew they were. As much of an asshole as Cyraenil was, she hated what she’d done to him to get the scales. Hecate had given her a chance to redeem her past mistakes, and here she was, just doing the same stuff all over again. 

Malina looked down at the prophecy scroll, clutched tightly in her hand. More than a few times in the past half-hour, she’d considered just leaving with it. Why should she wait here any longer for Loki to show up? He was probably just going to double-cross her somehow, anyway. 

But if she left, then she would be breaking the rules of her deal. And Loki, hypocrite that he was, did not tolerate rule-breakers. He would hunt her down, and probably kill her, before taking the prophecy back from her. Better to just wait.

The prophecy began to feel hot in her hand. For as long as she’d been considering leaving, Malina had also been fighting the urge to read what was on the scroll. It had to be important, she reasoned, if Loki wanted it so badly. But that had been another term of their deal—Malina was not to read the prophecy. No matter what.

Time dragged on around her. Every second felt like hours. Still, no sign of Loki. And the temptation to read the prophecy grew and grew within her until finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Against her better judgment, Malina broke the seal and tore the scroll open.

_It shall come to pass that the world shall fall thrice_  
_First to crystal, then fire, then human vice_  
_And the sun shall be swallowed by the brethren of the moon_  
_Condemning the world to eternal doom_

_When the horsemen ride, chaos shall raise_  
_The commander of the end of days_  
_Bridge is broken, wall undone,_  
_The end of time has now begun_

_Gods lay dead as allies fall_  
_And He Who Is One shall answer the call_  
_When Tiamat once more walks the earth_  
_Victory lies in Ciel’s birth_

_Life after death, flesh and bone,  
Savior of man walks alone_

A dark, anxious feeling crashed through Malina’s body like a tidal wave. It was hard to pinpoint where to begin with this prophecy—everything about it made her hair stand on end. _Gods lay dead as allies fall_ …that certainly didn’t bode well. And _He Who Is One shall answer the call_ …that meant Ethan. It had to. But what call would he answer?

 _The commander of the end of days_ …did that mean Tiamat? There was a line about her walking the earth once more. Would she really be resurrected? Wasn’t the whole point of this quest to stop that from happening? What was the use if she was destined to rise anyway?

But there was one line that made Malina’s blood run cold every time her eyes glanced over it. _The sun shall be swallowed by the brethren of the moon._ She had a sickening feeling that she knew what that meant. A prophecy even more ancient than this one, foretelling the literal apocalypse. In that prophecy, the sun was said to be consumed by a wolf. And Malina was a sun goddess.

Unfortunately, she had no more time to dwell on it, because she suddenly felt a finger tapping on her shoulder. Startled, Malina whipped around, and came face to face with the very person whose deal she’d just violated—Loki.

The trickster god grinned at her coldly. “Well, well, well. Looks like somebody’s curiosity got the better of her.”

The scroll dropped from Malina’s hands. Her mind raced at a million miles a minute as she tried to come up with an excuse that would keep her alive. “Loki, I—I can explain—”

He held up his hand to stop her as his other hand began to trace dangerously around one of his daggers. “Oh, there’s no need. I have two perfectly functioning eyes, Malina. You read my prophecy, when I specifically asked you not to. You’ve broken the terms of our deal. And I think you know what that means.”

His hand gripped around the hilt of his dagger. Malina’s eyes widened as she realized that they were probably going to come to blows—and Loki never lost a fight.

She was about to—well, actually, Malina wasn’t quite sure what she was about to do. For the first time, she was at a total loss for any plan of action. Fortunately, however, it didn’t matter. Loki’s grip on his dagger suddenly softened, and he smirked at her.

“It means we’re finally even,” he said. “You have your information, as promised. You can go now. Save the world, or whatever it is you heroes do.”

Malina was so stunned she could barely form a sentence. “I—what—you—”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?” When Malina didn’t respond, he sighed and continued, “I told you, I don’t like being indebted to others. And as much as you hate talking about the whole Baldr fiasco, I owed you for it. I promised you information. And that prophecy is your information. What you choose to do with it, I don’t really care. But you have it. We’re even.”

Still, Malina couldn’t quite wrap her head around the whole situation. Just seconds ago, she’d been utterly convinced that she was about to die. And now, not only was Loki letting her go, but he had never intended to betray her in the first place. It was unfathomable, and yet, it made a twisted sort of sense. 

“Uh…thanks, I—I guess,” she managed to stammer out.

Loki sighed again. “Whatever. This is my good deed for the millennium. Don’t get used to it.” He glanced upwards at the statue of Odin nervously. “I should go. Father has never really enjoyed my presence. And you should go as well, Malina. You only have about ten hours left before sunset. Giza awaits.”

With that, Loki vanished in a puff of smoke. And Malina broke down into tears.

The unimaginable stress of the past week—but especially the past twenty-four hours—was suddenly crashing down on her all at once. Surviving Vanaheim had been brutal. Meeting Kvasir had thrown her into inner turmoil, dredging up a lot of dark things about herself that Malina didn’t really want to deal with. Attacking Cyraenil had been rash and stupid, and she knew that sooner or later, she would suffer the consequences. The prophecy was sending her out of her mind with fear and worry. And Loki’s presence never helped.

So, while she was still alone, she let it all loose. She stood there, crying out her pain and her fear and her anger, feeling very small in the shadow of two great warriors like Odin and Freyja. But tears were a tricky thing; once they started, they weren’t easily stopped.

Eventually, though, stop they did. And Malina was able to get a hold of herself. 

“Calm down,” she said to herself, needing to hear the words out loud. “You have job to do. This can all wait another day.”

Malina patted her pocket once more to make sure the scales were still there. Of course, they were. She glanced down at the prophecy, briefly considering taking it with her. She decided against it. If it needed to be recited, she could do it herself. Malina wouldn’t forget those words any time soon.

She opened the portal in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes! It's literally been almost a year since I last updated this. I apologize for anyone who was following along, but, well, I doubt anyone was, so this is more just me putting this here so I have a backup copy. See, the reason I've been away so long is because I made it really far into the story--almost to the end--and then my computer crashed. I lost, like, half of the work. Fortunately, because I'd been posting it here, I was able to recover some of it, but not all. As such, I lost a lot of my motivation to keep working on it. 
> 
> But writers' blocks don't last forever! New year, hopefully different me! Kicking things off right by getting back to an old, beloved, unfinished story of mine feels really good, and with any luck (and time too), I'll be able to get to the end in no time. And then maybe I can start the sequel...wait, what?
> 
> Anyway, Malina's sidequest has officially come to an end. And isn't that a spooky prophecy? What does it mean? Who knows?? (I do. I know.)
> 
> Next chapter will see Ethan's sidequest come to a close as well, and then our heroes shall reunite for the home stretch! We're almost at the end, guys! But don't you worry...I've still got a few more tricks up my sleeve. I can promise you that it won't be all fun and games. 
> 
> Pronunciations for this chapter:  
> Gulfast = GOAL-fast  
> Njorlis = NYOR-liss  
> Tonna = TOHN-nah  
> Cyraenil = SEAR-eh-nill
> 
> Song for the chapter title is "Curiosity" by Iggy Pop. 
> 
> Until next time!


	34. Blood Junkie

For a brief moment, Ethan was weightless. Then, he hit the ground hard.

Ethan was surprised at how quickly he regained his bearings. Maybe it was a subconscious thing he’d picked up from being in mortal danger eighty-five percent of the time. Whatever the case, he was thankful for it, because he immediately recognized his gray, smoky surroundings—he was in the Duat. And so, he was immediately on his guard.

He wouldn’t have been pulled into the Duat mid-fight like that if something wasn’t trying to kill him. Ethan lit his hands on fire and leapt to his feet, looking around. What he saw surprised him.

Standing in front of Ethan, there was a man with three faces. He had a completely normal body—white, toned, and dressed in regal purple robes—but his head threw Ethan for a loop. On top of the man’s head was long, jet-black hair that was pulled into several tight braids to keep it confined to the back of his head. The first of his faces was chiseled and bearded and overall looked pretty standard. But on either side of his head were two more faces that looked almost exactly the same as the front face, except the one to Ethan’s left was blindfolded with a golden cloth that wasn’t wrapped around the man’s head, but instead seemed to be seared onto the one face; and the face to Ethan’s right had a similarly designed cloth that was instead covering the face’s mouth, rather than its eyes.

Ethan was so confused, he didn’t even realize his hands were still on fire and raised in a fighting stance until the man raised his hands in surrender and said, “Hey, hey, watch where you’re pointing those things, kid. You could seriously hurt someone.”

“What’s he doing?” the blindfolded face cried. “What’s he got? Is it a weapon? Don’t let him hit me!”

The gagged face grumbled angrily in response.

The normal face arched his eyebrows at Ethan. “I am not your enemy, Ethan Locke. I merely pulled you in here so we could have a safe place to talk.”

Ethan lowered his fists, but only slightly. “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

“Is his weapon gone yet?” the blindfolded face shouted.

The normal face rolled his eyes. “Yes, Triglav, the weapon is gone.” He gave Ethan a look that read, Some people.

“Good. I’m very delicate, you know.”

The gagged face muttered angrily again. Ethan tried, but couldn’t decipher what he was trying to say; the cloth covering his mouth was too thick.

“Who are you?” Ethan asked, deciding to momentarily trust this strange man and lowering his fists, extinguishing the flames. “I don’t recognize you.”

The gagged face didn’t like that, apparently, because he started barking things at Ethan through the cloth. Ethan was actually pretty glad he couldn’t understand him; he had the feeling there were some pretty nasty words being thrown out.

The normal face sighed. “You’ll have to excuse Triglav. He’s very irritable. Probably has to do with never being able to speak his mind.”

The gagged face harrumphed. 

“Triglav?” Ethan asked, confused. “But…I thought the blindfolded one was Triglav.”

“Oh, he’s dense, isn’t he?” the blindfolded face said. “Not a good quality for a Chosen One. We should tell Hecate to pick another.”

“Would you shut up?” the normal face snapped. “Gods, you’re annoying.”

“Maybe I would be less annoying if I could see,” the blindfolded face shot back.

Ignoring him, the normal face said to Ethan, “My dear boy, I am Triglav. We are all Triglav. Slavic god of war.”

The gagged face roared triumphantly from behind the gag.

“Um…” Ethan wasn’t quite sure what to make of this new situation, but he figured that if Triglav was a god, he had nothing to be afraid of. After all, no god had tried to kill him yet. “Do the three of you have individual names?”

Triglav stopped and thought for a moment. “No. No, I don’t believe we do. The mortals never gave me any. Neither did my mother.”

“I represent the sky!” the blindfolded Triglav interrupted. “Middle face is the earth. Other face is the underworld. We watch over all!” He paused for a moment. “Or, well, the other faces do. I don’t see much of anything.”

“Only I am allowed to both see and speak because I walk with the mortals on earth,” Triglav’s middle face explained. “But I must also be blindfolded, so I cannot look at the sins of mortals from the sky, and gagged, so I cannot speak of their sins after death.”

“Doesn’t that get a little confusing?” Ethan asked.

“Very much so,” the blindfolded face said. “If you wish to give us separate names so your tiny mortal brain can make sense of it, you may call me Ouranos!”

The gagged face grumbled.

“He has a point,” Triglav said. “That’s already a name.”

“How about I call you Sky,” Ethan said, pointing at the blindfolded face, “you can just be Triglav—” he continued, pointing at the middle face, garnering several angry noises coming from the gagged face “—and you’re definitely Anger,” Ethan finished, glaring at it.

Anger huffed.

Triglav smiled. “Truly, Ethan Locke, it does not matter what you call us. I am still Triglav. All three of us are.”

“No!” Sky shouted. “I declare my independence. From henceforth, I shall be known as Sky!”

Triglav rolled his eyes. “Fine, Sky. If it pleases you.”

“It does!”

Anger huffed louder.

“Yes, I know, but you know he’ll complain if I don’t,” Triglav said to Anger.

“I heard that!” Sky cried.

Anger roared, well, angrily, from behind his gag.

“Oh, what was that?” Sky taunted. “I’m afraid I can’t hear you.”

Anger roared even louder.

“Oh, that’s a low blow, you no good, war-mongering—”

“Enough, both of you!” Triglav cried, reaching up his hands and smacking both Sky and Anger on their cheeks. “We are in the presence of a guest. Would you it kill you two to behave?”

“I’d quite forgotten he was there,” Sky confessed. “He’s very quiet for a Chosen One. And dense, too, but I think I said that already.”

“Hey!” Ethan said. He was beginning to feel offended. “Did you call me here just to insult me?”

Anger rolled his eyes and huffed.

“He says no, we didn’t,” Triglav translated. But by the look on Triglav’s face, Ethan had a feeling he wasn’t translating all of what Anger had said. “We actually summoned you here to deliver a very important message that, well, unfortunately, only one of us can deliver,” he finished, glaring over at Sky as best he could. The most he could manage, though, was a stinky side-eye. 

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” Sky said. “It always comes down to me, doesn’t it?”

“A message?” Ethan asked incredulously. “That’s it? You couldn’t have waited until later? You pulled me out of a very important fight.” 

Triglav shrugged. “Sky said it was urgent.”

“And it is!” Sky agreed. “Very urgent indeed. Straight from Mother Sky herself, yes sir. And she entrusted little old me with the message. Me, can you believe it? Triglav, war god of the sky—”

“Hey, look, no offense, but could you get on with it?” Ethan interrupted. He was getting pretty annoyed with Sky’s airheadedness—although, he supposed, that probably came with the job. “Like I said, I was in the middle of something important. I’d like to get back to it.”

Anger huffed. Ethan didn’t need a translation to know that the face agreed with him.

“Offense taken,” Sky grumbled. “But fine. Just know, though, Ethan Locke, that if you weren’t so important, I’d have blasted you to cinders by now! So disrespectful.”

Sky couldn’t see him, so Ethan flipped him off. Triglav and Anger snickered.

Either Sky didn’t hear them, or didn’t care, because he immediately launched into his speech: “The Sky Mother herself, Nut, queen of the sky, hailing from the shining Egyptian pantheon, has personally asked me to deliver unto you, Ethan Locke, a very important message. Would you like to receive it?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. At first, Triglav had seemed interesting; now, he was just getting annoying, and Ethan was itching to get back to the battle. He didn’t like leaving Mars and Heracles alone against the hydra, no matter how powerful the two gods were. “Yes. I would love to.”

Sky grinned. “Of course you would! And so, Ethan Locke, the message is: ‘When the crystal sky alights, and plunges the world into darkness, use the shadows of Giza to enter the Duat. I shall find you, and together we will break the barrier,’” Sky finished triumphantly. “The ‘I’ in that message is, of course, Nut. Not me.”

“I got that,” Ethan said impatiently.

“Just making sure!” Sky said. “You have a reputation for being dense, you know.”

“Look, is that it?” Ethan asked. “Can I go now?”

Before Sky could say anything, or Anger could interrupt with another indecipherable grunt, Triglav reached up and clapped his hands over both of their mouths. “Yes, Ethan Locke, that is all. But one last warning, from a friend: be wary of those with whom you travel. They may not have your best interests at heart.”

That confused Ethan. “You mean Mars and Heracles.”

Triglav shook his head. “No, Ethan Locke. Your companion, the sun goddess. For such a bright and powerful force—well, she has a rather dark history. I would just be careful, if I were you. After all—” his face turned grim “—once a traitor, always a traitor.”

And with that, Triglav disappeared, melding into the shadowy, smoky background of the Duat, leaving Ethan standing there in confusion.

Malina? A dark history? It wasn’t hard for Ethan to believe that she had a troubled past, given all the fights she seemed to get herself into. But her being a traitor, or not having his best interests at heart? Those ideas seemed foreign to him. They didn’t seem real. 

And what Sky had told him…that was the second time now that Ethan had heard mention of a crystal sky. First from Zevoa, when the hyena god had freed him from Hades’s dungeon, and now from Triglav in a message from Nut, the sky itself? Ethan had a hard time wrapping his head around the godliness of the whole thing, but one thing was for certain: the crystal sky was more than just a prophecy. By now, whatever it was, it seemed to be something that was going to happen whether he liked it or not. And it would not be a good thing.

Before he had any more time to dwell on it, however, a figure suddenly materialized in the mists next to him. Ethan looked over to see Mars, bruised, battered, and with his left shoulder slightly smoldering, but otherwise okay. The god’s expression, however, said it all.

“Uh…hey, listen, I can explain—”

“Later,” Mars growled, grabbing Ethan by the back of his shirt. “Hydra now.”

Ethan tried not to panic as he felt Mars pulling him through space.

***

Mars and Heracles had been busy. In Ethan’s absence, the hydra had been nearly defeated. All that remained was the middle head, roaring angrily and spewing fire while Heracles rode atop its neck. The hydra was bucking its head like a rodeo bull, trying desperately to throw the god off, but Heracles held fast. Ethan had to give him credit for that.

He couldn’t help but feel monumentally embarrassed, though, when Heracles caught sight of him and Mars reappearing in that utterly demolished street in Athens, and shouted angrily at Ethan, “Nice of you to stop by, Chosen One!”

For whatever reason, Ethan felt the need to defend himself. “It wasn’t my fault! I—”

“Later,” Mars repeated, pushing Ethan forward. “Herc’s been struggling up there, waiting for you. Once he gets the head off, burn the stump.”

Ethan’s heart sank. Of course. That had been his job, for when the hydra had been brought down to its final head. And he knew time moved differently in the Duat—Mars and Heracles could have been stuck out here, grappling with the final head and unable to kill it, for hours. Ethan decided not to say anything else, and just suck it up and get it done.

He stepped forward towards the thrashing hydra head. He heard Heracles shout, “Get ready, kid!” 

Ethan had barely had time to set his fists aflame before Heracles ripped the beast’s head clean off with his bare hands. The stump flailed to the ground, landing with a sickening squelch right in front of Ethan. Heracles, having jumped off of the neck before it fell, landed with ease in the street next to him, holding the head fast in his arms.

“Well, get on with it,” he urged. “We don’t have all day.”

“Right,” Ethan muttered. “Sorry.” Truth be told, he was still shaken at his conversation with Triglav. But he had a job to do. And, when he thought about what was coming next, this seemed like the easiest part.

He allowed the fire to travel all the way up his arms—strangely enough, his clothes didn’t burn; probably a benevolent side effect of the magic—for good measure, and then he thrust them towards the stump. 

“Hotter,” Mars said. “Really burn it good.”

Ethan willed the fire to burn hotter, hotter, and hotter—until it was white-hot, and he could feel a strange tingling in his arms. He’d never felt the fire on his skin before. He took this as a sign that he was burning too hot, but Ethan ignored it and powered through the sensation. The stump had to be burned; otherwise, they’d be here for far too long. And, judging by the sky, it was already noon, or getting close to it. Not long until sunset.

It took longer than Ethan would’ve liked. But eventually, finally, the job was done. 

Mars gripped Ethan’s shoulder. “Good work, kid.” Despite his initial anger, he sounded like he meant it. Ethan appreciated that.

Extinguishing the flames, Ethan asked. “So…I need to bathe in this. How do we do that?”

Mars looked pointedly at Heracles. The god groaned, and then sighed heavily. “Fine. He can use my tub. But you’re cleaning it up afterwards.”

Mars smirked. “Yeah. Right.”

“Mars, I swear to all the gods—”

“Guys,” Ethan interrupted. Call him crazy, but after spending a week with those two, and especially after Triglav, he’d had enough of arguing gods. “That’s all well and good, but how are we getting them back?”

Heracles turned to Ethan, irritated. “Oh, trust me, Ethan Locke, you don’t get to talk. Where were you? You abandoned us!”

“Not on purpose!” Ethan shot back. He told them about how Triglav had pulled him into the Duat to deliver Nut’s message. He didn’t mention Triglav’s final warning about Malina, though. That was something he needed to think about before he shared it with anyone.

Mars rolled his eyes. “Triglav. Hate that guy. Always so annoying.”

Heracles huffed, and Ethan noticed how much he sounded like Anger when he did. “The next time I see him, I’m giving him a smackdown-level beating. A _message_ , for gods-sake. Couldn’t it have waited, I don’t know, twenty more minutes?”

“That’s what I said!” Ethan agreed.

Kicking at the bloodied stump Ethan had just burned, Mars said, “Whatever. No good dwelling on it now. We killed the hydra. Now, we finish the job.”

“Yeah, about that,” Ethan said, “how are we getting the blood back, again?”

Mars grinned. “You leave that to me, kid.”

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, the hydra was gone. Just like that; gone, as if it had never been there at all. In its place were six industrial-size buckets, all filled to the brim in warm, bubbling blood.

“Everybody take two,” Mars said, clapping his hands together. “We’ve got quite the hike ahead of us.”

Ethan sighed.

***

The smell was absolutely revolting. Ethan fought the urge to gag as Mars dumped the last bucket of blood into Heracles’s bathtub. 

Ethan stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but one of Heracles’s bathrobes, which was far too big for him and took a lot of effort to keep from falling around his ankles. Heracles stood behind him, watching the war god swish his hand through the blood-filled bathtub with an intense look of disdain on his face.

Ethan turned towards him. “Sorry about your bathtub.”

Heracles sniffed. “Whether he likes it or not, Mars is cleaning that up.” 

“I would if I could,” Ethan said, surprised to find that he meant it. “But it’s just, well, the deadline and all. I wouldn’t have the time.”

Heracles looked at Ethan for a long time before finally saying, “Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Best of luck with your…thing.”

The god turned and left, closing the door behind him, pushing Ethan into the bathroom and leaving him alone with Mars.

“Nice spending a week with you, too,” Ethan muttered irritably.

At the bathtub, Mars stood up, his arm coated in blood. “Alrighty. Should be warm enough now. I’d make the bath quick, though. Blood tends to coagulate quickly.”

Ethan gulped. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mars looked Ethan up and down. “You gonna be okay in here?”

“I’m twenty-two,” Ethan reminded the god. “I think I can take a bath by myself.”

Mars shrugged. “Whatever. But if you need help…just holler. Never had anyone bath in hydra blood before. Who knows what kind of side effects there could be.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Thanks, mom.”

Mars shoved Ethan. Hard. Then he opened the door and left the room, leaving Ethan alone with a bathtub filled with bubbling hydra’s blood.

“A deadline’s a deadline,” Ethan said to himself, swallowing his extreme discomfort as he dropped the robe and stepped into the tub.

Immediately, it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever done. The smell alone was enough to send him screaming from the room, but the texture of the blood on his skin was unimaginably slimy. It took all of his willpower to sink down into the tub.

Thoth hadn’t said how long was long enough to bathe in the blood. Ethan figured he would allow himself thirty minutes to soak, and then he was out of there. Then it occurred to him that he had no way of keeping time. Then he remembered his phone was in his pants pocket, right on the floor within the grabbing distance. He could use it to keep time, and even play some games or surf the Internet to pass the time. 

Ethan was about to reach for it when he realized that he’d submerged his hands, too. He doubted getting hydra’s blood on a smartphone was in any way good for it, so he looked around for something to wash his hand off on. Unfortunately, the only thing he could reach was a pure white towel hanging on the wall next to him.

“Sorry, Heracles,” he muttered as he reached out and dried off his hands as best he could. By the time he was done, you could barely even tell the towel had ever been white. Ethan tried to console himself by thinking that maybe Heracles didn’t know the towel’s original color, and would never be the wiser.

He reached out and easily pulled his phone from his pants pocket. 1:21. So at 1:51 he would get out of the tub, and—

Ethan grimaced as he realized that he wasn’t allowed to dry the blood off, because it had to soak into his skin in order to work. He would have to put his clothes on over wet hydra blood. The price we pay to save the world, he thought to himself as he struggled not to gag on the still-overpowering smell.

Holding his phone carefully with one hand on the edge of the tub so as to not let it slip into the blood, Ethan thought about what would be best to pass the time. A game, maybe. But which one? Ethan’s phone was full of them, because he had always been a bit of procrastinator. And anyway, most of the games worked best with two hands, which would require Ethan having to hold the phone directly over the tub. There was no way he was risking that.

The Internet it was, then. Ethan opened the app, and paused, wondering what to search. Reddit, probably, would be the best time-killer. 

All of a sudden, an idea popped into his head. And once it was there, he couldn’t shake it. It had never even occurred to him to look…but now he had to. He had to know.

He tapped the search bar and typed out (painfully slow with only one hand, but he got it done) _Yale homicide + disappearance._ There couldn’t be too many of those.

And, sure enough, the articles popped up. Ethan clicked on one from a news source he didn’t recognize—The Shoreline, apparently stationed in New Haven—that had the blazing headline: _Shocking and Gruesome Murder Rocks Yale Undergrad._

He scrolled the article for a few moments until he reached the part about the event itself. It read:

 

_The body was discovered by 21-year-old physical engineering major Padmaja Laghari, who described the scene as “…barbaric. It shook me to my core, having to see something like that. Some sick psycho [expletive deleted] actually did that to someone. It’s awful, and it’s inhuman.”_

_Laghari reports calling 911 immediately, and when police arrived on the scene, they quickly sectioned off the area. New Haven Police Chief Roger Lawrence commented, “Our first priority was to get the students away from the area while we sent in teams to clean up the mess. Nobody should have to see something like this. New Haven has always been a safe and thriving community, and to see that peace desecrated like this is alarming and frightening. The people of New Haven can rest assured that we will find who is responsible, and bring them to justice.”_

_Despite Chief Lawrence and his team’s best efforts, however, some students, like Laghari, unfortunately bore witness to the carnage. One other student, Tara McCarthy, a 22-year-old English major who identifies herself as the girlfriend of the deceased, made a striking accusation._

_“It was [Ethan Locke, his roommate]. I know it was. Why else would he go missing on the same day that Robert was killed? Ethan…never seemed like the type of guy to do something like this, but…psychopaths always surprise you. I know it was him. I can feel it.” (Editor’s Note: Ms. McCarthy’s views on the situation do not reflect the Shoreline’s.)_

_Chief Lawrence declined to either confirm or deny Ms. McCarthy’s accusation, stating that they had not yet compiled a list of potential suspects. However, McCarthy’s story rings true: Ethan Locke, a 22-year-old psychology major and Robert’s former roommate, has gone missing, and seemingly cannot be reached by any means. The reason for his disappearance, however, cannot yet be determined._

_The Shoreline has reached out to his mother, Savannah Locke, for comment, but has not heard back as of yet._

_6/3/17 Update: The full police report has been released on the New Haven Police website, linked here, in the hopes that anyone with information will come forward upon reading it. However, crime scene photos of the incident are included in the report, so the Shoreline advises its more squeamish readers to refrain from viewing it._

 

That was it. Ethan had read enough. He let his phone drop down onto his pants, overcome with a veritable cocktail of emotions: anger, pain, fear, guilt, and sadness being first and foremost among them. 

He knew Padmaja. She’d lived down the hall from him and Robert, and was one of the sweetest girls Ethan had ever known. To know that she was the first one to stumble onto that absolutely horrifying scene—it wracked Ethan with an unfathomable guilt.

And Tara’s accusation made his heart plummet so deep into his stomach that, in spite of himself, he began to cry. So, his worst suspicions were confirmed. People thought that he’d done it. There had been more updates addended onto the article, and maybe one of them was a comment from his mother. He couldn’t bear to go back and read them, because the thought of his mother possibly thinking that he could do something like this was more than he could handle. The thought of _anyone_ thinking that about him was too much already.

But…there was one last thing he had to know. He reached down, picked up his phone, and, hand trembling, made another search: _Ethan Locke._

The results nearly sent him over the edge. His vision blurred with tears as he read headline after headline, all saying pretty much the same thing: _Missing Ethan Locke Named Top Suspect in Yale Undergrad Murder._

But at least now Ethan knew. He could never go back. Fingerprints on the door, some stray hairs on the ground…he’d even vomited out in the hall. No wonder that the forensics team had identified him as a top suspect. His mother probably believed it, too.

Ethan set his phone down, staring straight ahead at the gold-plated wall surrounding the bathtub. Here he was, bathing in a tub full of blood, halfway across the world from a place where everybody thought he was a vicious and sadistic killer. 

Triglav’s words began to weigh down on him a lot more now, particularly the warning about Malina. If she turned out to be a traitor…Ethan didn’t think he could handle another betrayal like this. 

He could never go home now. Malina and Andrew were his only home left. He couldn’t lose them. 

And yet, as he stared straight ahead, his spirit slowly crumbling under all of this messy bullshit suddenly crashing down around him, Ethan couldn’t shake the dark, creeping feeling that someday—maybe someday soon—he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...this took a turn, didn't it? Apologies! I never intended for this chapter to end on such a depressing note, but, well, you know what they say--our stories evolve as we write them. And, the more I think about it, the better this ending feels as a setup for what's coming next. Because I warned you last time--it only gets harder from here. It's not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows as they close in on the first ring. 
> 
> And close in they will! All three sidequests, as of this chapter, are finally completed! Next chapter will begin with seeing our heroes reunited in Giza, and after that...well, who knows what will happen! (I do. I totally do. I cannot stress this enough.)
> 
> Anyway, pronunciations for this chapter:  
> Triglav = TREE-glahv
> 
> The song is "Blood Junkie" by Lamb of God. Don't be fooled by the band name. This is metalcore as its finest. 
> 
> Until next time!


	35. Open the Door

Andrew was beyond nervous. 

He glanced around anxiously, almost as if he was expecting Ethan to just stroll out of the crowd around them. It was an unrealistic hope, though. How would Ethan know where they were in a city as big as Cairo?

“How is he going to find us?” Andrew asked, voicing his thoughts as he drummed his fingers nervously on the table. “Cairo’s a big city. He might not—”

“Andrew,” Malina said pointedly, dropping her sunglasses ever so slightly so she could glare at him from behind them. “I had a hard enough time finding you. You really think he’s gonna have any better chance of finding us if we keep moving around?” She stretched her neck and leaned further back into her chair. “Staying put is the better option.”

Andrew frowned. “I think you’re just too lazy to move.”

Malina shrugged. The two of them sat at an outdoor roadside café somewhere in Cairo—Andrew really had no idea where, but he knew it was near the desert. They’d ordered some food, but while Malina had torn into hers, Andrew had barely touched his basket of fries, and was currently nursing his coffee to death. He was too anxious to focus on eating. Malina, however, had no such qualms. She was casually leaning back in her chair, wearing both sunglasses and a sun hat while reading an Egyptian newspaper, and still munching on the remains of her shawarma. 

“It’s not my fault these chairs are so comfortable,” Malina said, going back to her newspaper. 

Andrew rolled his eyes. “You look like such a tourist. You’re a sun goddess. You don’t need sunglasses or a sun hat.”

Malina scoffed, offended. “It’s a part of the aesthetic, Andrew.”

To be fair, Andrew looked just as bad. As far as he could tell, he had been the first to arrive in Cairo, and had run into Malina by pure coincidence at around eleven AM in a tourist shop. After briefly trading stories of what had happened to them over the past week, they’d gotten a change of clothes from the shop and decided to settle down in the café to wait for Ethan to find them. 

Malina, in addition to the sun gear, was dressed in a gleaming white bohemian romper and comfortable sneakers that were now propped up onto the table. Andrew was starting to feel embarrassed about also being dressed in white, but he actually liked his cloth button-down and breathable khakis, so he decided not to think about it. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Malina spoke up, still reading the newspaper. “Abasi Rahal opened a bakery downtown today. Good for her.”

Andrew looked at her. “You can read Arabic?”

“Of course I can,” Malina huffed, fluffing the newspaper. “Can’t you?”

“I’m from Babylon,” Andrew said matter-of-factly. “That’s only, like, a thousand miles from here.”

She arched an eyebrow. “So, you can’t?”

Andrew was quiet for a few moments before admitting, “I never learned.”

Malina smirked. “Yeah. Thought so.”

Andrew sighed. He was starting to get antsy again. He patted his satchel, slung over the chair’s shoulder, just to make sure the karkadann horn was still there. It was, but that didn’t make Andrew any less uneasy. He didn’t like being this close to the desert. Saudi Arabia wasn’t far from Egypt. Sure, Nyx had said that without Azizos, El couldn’t touch him, but Andrew didn’t want to take that risk.

Azizos…Andrew shuddered to think about what might have happened to him. He didn’t like thinking about his time with Nyx. He didn’t like thinking about the anger she’d made bubble up inside of him, the side of him that she’d brought out full-force. And he especially didn’t like, despite how much he tried to rationalize it as darkness’s influence, it felt like that anger was more a part of Andrew than it was of Nyx. 

Maybe that was why Andrew had left that out when he’d told Malina his story of the past week. In his version of things, he’d been trapped on the oasis, but had managed to work a clever shadow spell to conceal himself in order to nab the horn. Thinking about Nyx—and the way she’d made him feel—wasn’t something he wanted to do. Talking about it, even less so. So, he hadn’t.

The funny thing was, Andrew got the feeling Malina wasn’t telling him everything about her journey in Vanaheim, either. According to her, she’d simply traveled across the land to the ocean, visited the underwater city of Njorlis, obtained the scales, and that had been that. But Andrew could tell there was more to the story. She seemed calm and collected enough now, to be sure, but Andrew knew her too well for that to fool him. There was something lurking beneath the surface—a sadness, and a fear. Two things Malina didn’t like showing others. 

So, he wouldn’t press. Partially out of a respect for her privacy, and partially because he didn’t want to potentially open the door to her prying about what he hadn’t told her. That was the downside of being such good friends; they knew each other too well.

Andrew glanced up at the digital clock on the wall next to them. 3:31 PM. “What time is sunset?” he asked Malina. As a sun goddess, she would instinctively know that.

“7:02,” she responded. 

“And you have the scales, right?”

Malina rolled her eyes—Andrew couldn’t see them from behind the sunglasses, but he just knew that she was—and threw a small black string pouch onto the table. “All right in there, Andrew. Do you wanna count them, too? Make sure one of them didn’t magically disappear in the ten minutes since you last asked?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Andrew said. “I’m just—”

“Anxious, I know,” Malina finished. “When are you not? But I’m telling you right now, you don’t need to be. Ethan still has, what, three-and-a-half hours? He’s probably finishing up right now, if he’s not already in the city. We’re gonna get the ring. Everything will be okay.”

Andrew sighed as a hot gust of wind blew some sand by his face. “Look, Malina, I want to believe you, but it’s just…we have so much riding on this. We can’t fail.”

Malina set her newspaper down. “Don’t you think I know that, Andrew? But we won’t fail. You have to have some faith in Ethan. He’s a resourceful kid. He’ll get it done.”

Andrew was about to respond—probably not to agree with her—when suddenly, a shadow fell over the two of them. Andrew looked up to see the hulking frame of a huge, muscular man dressed in all black standing over them. 

“Uh…can we help you?” Malina asked, lowering her sunglasses to look at the man.

The man grunted. “Andrew and Malina?”

Andrew and Malina exchanged looks. “Yes,” Andrew answered slowly, making ready to move for his pencil/staff if it came to a fight. “Who’s asking?”

The man grinned and stepped back, extending his hand to Malina, who tentatively shook it. “Mars Ultor,” he said. “Glad I finally found you. This city’s so full of gods, I’ve been hopping around for, like, an hour tracking godly presences. Wasn’t sure it was you at first, but I heard you talking about the kid, so I figured, hey, it’s gotta be.”

Andrew’s eyes widened. The kid… “You mean Ethan?”

“You know him?” Malina asked.

Mars smirked. “Yeah, I know him. Helped him kill his hydra. Kid’s waiting for you in a motel a little ways downtown. I’ll take you to him.”

Andrew was immediately on his feet, as was Malina. He summoned some money and dropped it on the table for the meal, and slung his satchel over his shoulder. He locked eyes with Malina as they exited the café with Mars, and caught a glimpse of the sudden worry in them. 

The message was clear: Ethan was finally there. That was a good thing. But it also meant that the hardest part of their quest so far was about to come.

***

The motel was dingy, run-down, and almost definitely filled with asbestos, but Andrew couldn’t have been happier. Every step that Mars led him and Malina, took him closer to seeing Ethan again.

Andrew would never admit it, but he had been going out of his mind with worry. Even when he had been dealing with Azizos and El, thoughts of Ethan and his safety had been in the back of Andrew’s mind constantly. Fighting a hydra was no easy task. Killing one was even harder. Even with help, Andrew had been terrified that Ethan wouldn’t make it.

And yet, despite it all, he was alive. The thought that this was a trap had briefly crossed Andrew’s mind, but Mars Ultor had a long history of being one of the good guys. If he said Ethan was here, then Andrew believed him. 

Sure enough, when Mars reached one of the rooms, unlocked it, and stepped inside, Andrew looked past him to see a familiar face sitting on the bed, flipping through the Egyptian TV channels.

Ethan looked up as the door opened, and smiled wide when he and Andrew locked eyes. Andrew nearly melted.

“Andrew!” he said, getting up from the bed and rushing to hug him. It took all of Andrew’s willpower to keep from hugging back too hard. But he was happy. Happy that Ethan had survived, and that he was finally back where Andrew could keep an eye on him. 

“Welcome back,” Andrew said, pulling back. He looked Ethan up and down. The boy’s skin was soaked in dried blood, but his clothes were untouched. “I take it you were successful, then?”

Ethan grimaced. “Yeah. But hopefully I’ll never have to do something like that again.”

Andrew nodded grimly. “Slaying a hydra is a difficult task.”

Ethan shook his head. “No, that was easy. Bathing in the blood was disgusting, though. All slimy and smelly.”

Mars scoffed from where he was leaning on the TV stand. “Easy? You weren’t even there.”

“I killed two heads,” Ethan said defensively. 

“You were supposed to get four.”

Before Andrew could ask what that meant, Malina pushed past him, shoving all of them fully into the room. “Hey, shit-for-brains, I missed you too!”

She hugged Ethan, and he hugged her back, but Andrew saw something in his face. There was a sort of trepidation, a distance in his eyes. He wasn’t as excited to see Malina as he should’ve been. Andrew wondered why as he reached back to shut the door behind them.

When Ethan pulled back from Malina, Mars stepped forward and clapped Ethan on the shoulder. “Well, kid, looks like our time together is done.”

Ethan looked up at the god—who towered over all of them—gratefully. “Thanks for everything, Mars.”

Mars rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. You’ll be repaying me someday. I don’t work for free.”

Ethan scoffed. “No way. This was your favor to Thoth. I don’t owe you jack shit.”

“Helping you kill the hydra was my favor to Thoth.” Mars began to count on his fingers. “But I also helped transport the blood back to Herc’s penthouse, escorted you here to Egypt, looked for these two while you sat here on your ass—”

“Okay, no, the blood was a part of it,” Ethan interrupted. “And I didn’t ask you to do that other stuff. You volunteered.”

Mars shoved Ethan, but playfully, as if the two of them were long-bickering brothers. “Whatever. I’ll be cashing in someday, kid. But for the time being—take care of yourself. Go, uh, save the world, or whatever it is you three are doing.”

Andrew and Malina thanked Mars for his help, and then Ethan hugged the war god goodbye. Mars looked a little startled—he’d probably never really been hugged by anybody before, Andrew reasoned—and awkwardly patted Ethan on the back a few times before pulling away. Then, after bidding all of them one last goodbye, the war god portaled away and disappeared.

Ethan turned to Andrew and Malina. “So…should we get going, then?”

“In a bit,” Malina said. “Tell us about the hydra! I wanna know everything.”

“Malina,” Andrew said, glancing at the clock on the wall. 4:13. “We only have about three hours until sunset.”

“Oh, shut up,” Malina said. “We can wait an extra twenty minutes for Ethan to tell us about his week.”

“And I kinda wanna know what happened to you guys, too,” Ethan cut in. “If that’s alright.”

Andrew sighed. “Fine.”

“Storytime!” Malina cheered, pulling up a chair. “Although, well, mine isn’t that exciting.” 

“Neither is mine,” Andrew lied.

“Well, mine is,” Ethan said. “Maybe too much.”

“We’ll go first, then,” Malina decided. “Best for last, right?”

She launched into the story Andrew had already heard—traveling overland, going to Njorlis, getting the scales easily, and coming back. She was still hiding something. Andrew could tell. But, of course, he had no right to say anything. He went next, spouting the same abridged version that he’d given Malina. 

Then it was Ethan’s turn. He told them about how he’d used Thoth’s coin to summon Mars’s aid, and then how he and Mars had bound the god-hero Heracles to help them. He told them about how Aristaeus had appeared to them—“Hate that guy,” Malina cut in—and offered them a hydra in exchange for Ethan buying a few dozen jars of his honey. He told them about how, in the middle of the hydra fight, Triglav had pulled him into the Duat for a message. And finally, he told them about how he’d bathed in the blood, and how Mars had insisted on bringing him to Egypt.

Andrew was too perceptive for his own good. Ethan was hiding something, too; Andrew could tell. The way he kept glancing nervously at Malina while talking about his meeting with Triglav—she never noticed, thank the gods, or she would have said something—told Andrew that Triglav had said something about her. Maybe something that unsettled him. Andrew hoped Triglav hadn’t spilled the beans on Malina’s past. Malina had wanted to tell Ethan on her own terms.

Also, when Ethan was discussing his bathing in the blood, there was a brief hesitation where something hung in the air. Something unspoken, something Ethan had done during that time that he wasn’t telling them about. And it was something important, too. Andrew was good at picking up on these little clues and using them to read people. It seemed, then, that they all had something to hide from their individual journeys.

When Ethan was finished, Malina whistled appreciatively. “Triglav, huh? Haven’t seen him in a few centuries. Last I heard, he was somewhere in the Duat, keeping an eye on Simargl for the Zoryas.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I was following you until the end.”

“Simargl is a doomsday beast chained up in the sky,” Malina explained. “The Zoryas are twin sisters who watch over it to make sure it doesn’t escape. Triglav helps them sometimes.”

“What about that message from Nut, though?” Andrew asked. “Do you know what it means?”

Ethan hesitated. “Well…it’s actually the second time I’ve heard about it.”

Malina’s eyes widened. “And you didn’t tell us the first time?”

“I didn’t know it was important yet!” Ethan said, defending himself. Andrew listened as Ethan told them about Zevoa’s warning to him when the hyena god freed him from the Underworld. 

The three of them were silent for a few moments. Andrew was turning this new information over and over in his head. Two gods had now given Ethan a warning regarding this mysterious crystal sky. Andrew didn’t like the implications of that.

“Well,” Malina spoke up, “in the future, tell us these things. Even if you don’t think it’s important, tell us. Chances are, it probably is.”

Ethan nodded, but said nothing, glancing nervously over at Malina. This time, she noticed, and his silence spoke volumes. Andrew realized that Triglav probably had told Ethan something—and he needed to step in before Malina realized it, too.

“So,” he said, standing up and clapping his hands together. “I think we’ve spent enough time here. We should get going. We do have a deadline, remember?”

Silence for a few moments. Then, Malina stood and said, “You’re right. I’ve been through too much shit lately to not get this ring. Let’s get out of this asbestos trap.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. As Malina opened a portal against the door, Andrew silently prayed that it wouldn’t interfere with what was coming next.

***

Andrew leaned over to Ethan. “How you doing there, buddy?”

Ethan grumbled. “Sweating my goddamn ass off.”

“Sorry,” Andrew said. “For what it’s worth, we’re almost there.”

Ethan’s response was just to grumble some more.

Andrew sighed. He really felt sorry for Ethan, but there was no other way that they were going to make it to the pyramids without attracting attention. Ethan was covered in blood. People would notice that. So, unfortunately, they’d had to completely cover him up. Whereas he’d previously been wearing a T-shirt with board shorts, now he was wearing a hoodie and baggy sweatpants over top of them. He must’ve been dying in the Egyptian summer sun.

Malina appeared on his other side, scanning the crowd for any godly or monstrous presences. They were nearing the entrance to the Giza Plateau, and after the fiasco at the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow, they weren’t taking any more chances. This time, they were checking before they went in. 

Andrew pulled a bottle of water out of his satchel and handed it to Ethan. “Here. This should help.” Ethan accepted the bottle and drank greedily, emptying it within seconds.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he handed the empty plastic back to Andrew.

“No worries,” Andrew replied. “I have more. And they’re for you.”

Ethan was silent for a moment. Then: “Can I have another one?”

Andrew smiled as he handed it over.

“Should be all clear,” Malina said as a gust of wind blew a clump of sand directly into her face—and her mouth. “Shit!” She hawked and spat desperately to get it out of her throat. Andrew couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Can we do this, then?” Ethan asked. “I’m literally melting here.”

Andrew glanced over at the horizon. The sun was setting, but they still had about an hour until it set completely. They would make it plenty of time, theoretically—but still, Andrew didn’t want to waste whatever time they had left. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Andrew led Malina and Ethan through crowds of tourists, pushing past them as they approached the entrance to the plateau. The sand blowing in from the desert whipped around them as they went, as if it had a mind of its own. By the time they’d stealthily piggybacked onto a tour group so as to avoid the blockage around the ticket counters, and were on the plateau itself, Andrew was absolutely coated in sand.

He brushed it off and kept going, Malina and Ethan squarely in tow. Looking back at them, Andrew saw that there was still some tension between the two of them. There would be a confrontation in the future; it wasn’t in Malina’s nature to avoid things like that. Andrew just hoped she had the good sense to wait until after they got the ring.

The wind picked up the closer they got to the pyramid, and the sand really began to pelt them. Tourists all over the plateau were lifting up maps and backpacks and sun hats as shield, to little to no success. The wind and the sand were merciless.

“Windy day today,” Andrew heard a tour guide shout out. “Usually, although we can expect high winds, it’s not like this. Maybe we can duck inside the gift shop area and wait for the winds to calm down.”

“Yeah, what’s up with these winds, Andrew?” Malina asked, suddenly next to him. “You think I missed something earlier?”

Andrew shook his head. He had his suspicions about who was behind this. “It’s probably just El,” he said. “He’ll be peeved at me for getting away with the horn. But he won’t follow us when we descend into the Duat.”

“The Duat?” Ethan asked, now on Andrew’s other side. “I thought we needed to get into the pyramid.”

“We are,” Malina said. “Just not the mortal world’s version.”

“The Pharaoh Khufu, who commissioned this pyramid, was a very powerful mortal magician,” Andrew explained. “Over the years, he amassed a huge collection of magical artifacts—things he didn’t want getting into the wrong hands. So, when he built the pyramid, it was partially as a monument to himself, and partially as a hiding spot.”

“You’re taking too long explaining, Andrew,” Malina cut in. “The Duat comes in two layers, Ethan—one that’s very deep, and very powerful. That’s the part you’ve visited so far. But there’s a smaller layer, one just beneath the surface of the mortal world, that acts as an echo of it. Anything that gets built in the mortal world appears in that layer. Khufu built the pyramid so he could hide his magical shit there, in the pyramid’s echo.”

“I was getting to that,” Andrew grumbled.

“And you were taking too long,” Malina repeated.

“Okay, cool,” Ethan said. He was practically shouting now; they all were. The winds and the sand were really starting to rise. “But there’s mortals all around us. How do we get into the Duat without being seen?”

“Ningirama’s Wall, Ethan,” Andrew reminded him. “It keeps mortals from seeing magical or supernatural things. It’ll keep them from seeing us going into the Duat. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, though he sounded a bit unsure. They kept walking. 

As they were approaching the pyramid, Malina grabbed Andrew’s arm and hissed in his ear, “El can’t leave the Arabian Desert, Andrew. You know that. Are you sure that all this sand is him?”

Andrew hesitated. Was he sure? Truth be told, he wasn’t. Maybe this really was just a freak, miniature sandstorm. Or maybe it was something worse. But whatever the case, Andrew didn’t want to sit around and worry about it any longer. They had a job to do.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I’m not sure how, but he must have found a way. Now, come on!” Malina didn’t look convinced, but she followed.

Just to minimize mortal interference, Andrew led Malina and Ethan to an isolated part of the plateau that tourists had abandoned in the face of the winds. “All we have to do now is open the portal and jump in!” he shouted, the winds howling. “Then we’ll be at the Duat’s version of the pyramid!”

“No shit, Andrew!” Malina shouted. “Just do it!”

“Hang on!” he shot back. “Does everyone have everything they need? We have to make sure!”

Malina pulled out her string pouch with the scales in it. Ethan simply pulled the hoodie back slightly and pointed at his face, which was still coated in dried blood. Andrew felt around in his satchel and felt both the karkadann horn and the octagonal key. They had everything they needed. They were all set to go.

Suddenly feeling giddy with excitement, Andrew turned, opened the portal, and jumped through. Malina and Ethan came in after him.

***

Andrew didn’t much like visiting the surface-echo layer of the Duat. It was dark, and creepy, and completely devoid of life—well, except for the occasional demon.

But here they were. Free of tourists, and nothing in their way. The echo-pyramid stood tall and proud before them. All around them, the desert lay bare, without any tourist attractions, just as it had a few thousand years ago when Khufu had first built the pyramid. And Andrew had been right; the wind and sand hadn’t followed them through, save for a few clumps that had blown in through the portal. For the first time in a long time, they were safe. And they were almost there.

Ethan breathed a loud, almost comical sigh of relief behind Andrew as he began yanking off his hoodie and sweatpants. “Christ!” he cried. “Do you guys have any idea how hot the desert is?” 

Malina smirked. “I have a few guesses.”

“Ethan, again, I’m sorry you had to do that,” Andrew said. “But Ningirama’s Wall won’t stop the mortals from seeing you drenched in blood. That wasn’t something we could have happen.”

“Well, then, this,” Ethan said, gesturing at the clothes on the ground, “will also never happen again. Are we clear?”

Malina shrugged. “Yeah, sure. But if we ever need to—”

“Shut it.”

“Kids, kids, please, stop fighting or I’m turning this car around,” Andrew said, marching up to the pyramid. “Let’s get a move on. We have a job to do.”

“True,” he heard Malina say behind him. “I don’t wanna get eaten by a demon.”

“Demons?!” came Ethan’s voice.

Andrew turned to shoot Malina a dirty look. “This layer of the Duat is inhabited by demons, yes,” he told Ethan. “But the pyramid is blessed by the gods. It’s holy ground. Demons can’t come near it. We’re safe.”

Malina and Ethan followed him up to the pyramid, but every time Andrew glanced back, he noticed Ethan looking around nervously for demons.

When they reached the pyramid, they stood at its steps. For a long time, not one of them moved. Then, Malina finally spoke up: “So…how do we open this thing?”

“With the offerings, right?” Ethan said. “The horn, the scales, and the blood?”

“Yeah, but where do we put them?” Malina asked. Andrew realized she was asking him. Ethan was looking at him, too.

Andrew sighed, part of him wishing that he hadn’t become the de facto leader of the quest. Whenever an answer needed solving, the two of them looked to him to solve it. He didn’t necessarily mind the attention; he’d just assumed that Ethan, as the “Chosen One” or whatever, would be the leader.

“Well,” Andrew said, thinking about it for a moment, “it’s probably on a specific step. And as for which step…maybe the forty-ninth?”

“Why that one?” Ethan asked.

“Seven is a powerful number in magic,” Andrew answered. “Forty-nine is seven times seven.”

“So, what you’re saying is, you have no idea how we do this?” Malina asked.

Andrew shrugged. “Does either one of you have a better idea?”

They didn’t answer, so Andrew began to climb. Malina and Ethan followed him.

When they reached the forty-ninth step, Andrew reached into his satchel and took out the karkadann horn. He set the horn down onto the step, and Malina opened her pouch and dumped the five scales down next to the horn. The two of them stepped back as Ethan awkwardly stood next to the horn and the scales, spreading his arms and legs wide at Andrew’s instruction so as to “show off” the blood. 

For a few moments, nothing happened. “Well, maybe we should try a different step,” Malina reasoned, beginning to reach for the scales. 

All of a sudden, the steps began to quake. The horn, the scales, and the blood on Ethan’s skin all vanished in the blink of an eye, and the steps beneath them began to slowly but surely crumble away. “Down! Back to the base!” Andrew cried, but the other two were already running.

It was a close call, but the three of them managed to reach the base of the pyramid before all forty-nine steps crumbled away completely. By the time the smoke cleared, Andrew was both surprised and unsurprised to see that there was no rubble—only a long, dark corridor that Andrew couldn’t see the end of, leading deep into the pyramid.

The three of them stood in front of the tunnel, unmoving, as a cold blast of wind suddenly raced out of the pyramid, blowing both out and in, and reaching so far back that it even carried in the clumps of sand from the portal. When the wind subsided, Ethan shakily stepped forward.

“What was that?” he asked.

“An invitation,” Andrew said, reaching into his satchel and pulling out the octagonal key as he stepped forward.

“Then let’s accept it,” Malina said, marching ahead of them and into the corridor. “I’ve had enough of this place already. Let’s get it done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahh! We are so close to the ending, guys! The gang has finally arrived at their destination, and are *this* close to getting the ring...but obviously, since there are still three chapters left, it won't exactly be easy for them. There's a new enemy coming hot on their heels (and if you're an attentive reader, then you might already know who it is; an author is nothing without their little clues sprinkled here and there). 
> 
> But anyway! Boy, am I glad to be reaching the endgame. This has been too long coming, and while I've thoroughly enjoyed writing this, I know it'll feel good to finally be able to sit back and say, "I finished it." And hopefully anyone reading this has enjoyed coming along for the ride! 
> 
> No new pronunciations for this chapter, so the song title is "Open the Door" by Betty Carter. It's a fun, jazzy little number, and she has a lovely voice, so I really recommend this song for anyone interested in that type of stuff.
> 
> Until next time!


	36. Crystal Night

Ethan wasn’t sure whether to feel excited, relieved, nervous, scared, or some combination of all four. 

The past three months had been so unbelievably difficult. Every trial Ethan had had to go through brought him closer and closer to losing his cool completely. Odin’s pep talk had reinvigorated him slightly, sure, but now that he was here, in Giza, only steps away from getting the first of seven rings, Ethan was only just beginning to realize that there was a lot more to come. 

The way he, Malina, and Andrew had all talked about getting to the first ring, it had been easy to feel like after that, there would be nothing left. The world would be saved, and Ethan could try to return to normal life. But this ring was, of course, still only the first of seven. Six more were still waiting out there, somewhere in all the worlds, and Ethan had no doubt that his journey would only get harder from there. 

And then, of course, there was the new revelation that there would be no returning to his old life. For a long time, Ethan realized, he had subconsciously clung to that hope—that someday, he could go home, and put all of this behind him. But now that he knew what he knew, it was clear that there wouldn’t be any returning to New Haven. Maybe not even to the United States. There was probably a nationwide manhunt going on for him, or something else like that. 

Ethan shuddered in the cold corridor. He didn’t like thinking about the situation back home. Maybe that was why he hadn’t told Andrew and Malina about it. Ethan wasn’t quite ready to talk about it yet. But, then again, they were his closest friends. They’d all been through a lot together. That should have made it easy to talk to them, right?

That very fact was what was tearing Ethan apart the most. He knew Malina knew something was up, and he figured Andrew probably knew, too. But Ethan had never been good at hiding his feelings, and at the moment, he didn’t know how to feel about Malina. It was true, she was one of his closest friends. But Triglav’s warning had unsettled him. She was a goddess, an all-powerful, immortal being who had been alive for millions of years. How well did he really know her?

Andrew trusted her. That much was clear. But they had an obvious past together that had the potential to influence Andrew’s feelings. Hecate hadn’t exactly seemed very warm towards Malina; Ethan had noticed that. Did Hecate trust her? And if not, why should Ethan?

He shivered again in the cold. The corridor was long, dark, and absolutely freezing. Ethan found himself wishing he’d kept the sweatpants and hoodie on. He’d tried conjuring fire to keep himself and the others warm—but mostly himself—but every time he tried, some strange, sudden wind blew it out. So, he’d given up trying a long time ago.

It felt like they’d been walking forever. Malina had conjured a small ball of light to illuminate their path, but the darkness in there still seemed like it was just waiting to swallow them all up the second the light went out. Ethan didn’t like it. He also didn’t like being in the back of the line they were walking in, but Malina had had to take the forefront because she had the light, and Andrew had insisted on being behind her so as to direct her if necessary.

But it hadn’t been. The corridor, as creepy as it was, was very straightforward. The path they’d been walking hadn’t deviated once, and although it had its fair share of twists and turns, it seemed like a straight shot all the way until the end. The walls were made of solid gold, and on them were inscriptions and drawings that, the more Ethan looked followed them, sort of felt like a cohesive storyline. What story they were telling, though, Ethan had no clue. He could hardly read hieroglyphics. 

After a while, the trio passed by a section of wall that Andrew stopped at. Ethan had been so busy looking at the drawings that he nearly ran into the god. Malina, however, kept walking, and only stopped when Andrew said, “Wait.”

She turned and walked back to them. “What?”

Andrew pointed at the wall to his right. “That wall. There’s something wrong with it.”

Ethan looked where he was pointing, and at first, he didn’t notice anything fishy. But then, the more he looked, the more he saw it. He couldn’t make out anything on the wall, no matter how hard he tried. And no matter how close Malina’s light got to it…

“The shadows won’t move,” Ethan said. “They’re completely covering the wall.” 

“Weird,” Malina muttered. “Magical darkness. Not a fan.”

“Yeah,” Andrew agreed. “We should keep moving. Whatever this is, we shouldn’t mess with it.”

They kept moving, and Ethan, after staring at the shadows a little longer, reluctantly followed them. He didn’t voice it, but he’d had this strange feeling, watching the shadows swirl and move around. He’d felt almost drawn to them, like something was calling out to him.

Triglav’s message came back to him: _Use the shadows of Giza to enter the Duat._ Was it possible that that was what Nut had meant? It seemed likely. But if Malina and Andrew were thinking the same thing, they hadn’t said it. So, Ethan stayed quiet. He wasn’t sure why. That was the type of thing he’d usually felt compelled to them about. But there was something in his gut that told him to keep it to himself.

Finally, after a few more turns, Ethan heard Malina call out, “There! I see something!”

The three of them rushed forward, and Ethan was a little underwhelmed to find that in front of them stood a dead end. Nothing but solid wall. 

“Dammit!” Malina shouted, kicking at the sand that had accumulated in front of the wall. “What the shit, Hecate? There’s nothing here!”

“Maybe that shadowy thing we saw,” Ethan spoke up. “Do you think that’s the door?”

Malina looked at him strangely, and Ethan was surprised to find that there had been a tinge of eager hopefulness in his voice. There was something in him that wanted to go back there so badly, and he didn’t know why. It scared him.

“No,” Andrew said, reaching into his satchel and pulling out the octagonal key Hecate had given them so long ago. “Hecate said this would be here, remember? She said there would be no key slot or anything. Just…put the key in the wall, and it’ll open.”

“Question,” Ethan said. “How do we put the key in when there’s no place to put it?”

Andrew’s answer was simply to touch the key to the wall’s surface. For a few seconds, nothing happened, then the key was sucked right out of Andrew’s hands and into the wall with an audible (and disgusting) slurping noise. Andrew jumped back, startled, and the effect was immediate. The wall began to shine with an almost-blinding light, and Ethan had to cover up his eyes. When the light faded, and he looked again, the wall was no longer there. Beyond it was a room that Ethan couldn’t see into, it was so dark.

Malina stepped into the room first, and willed back the shadows with her light magic. Andrew and Ethan came in after her, and Ethan now saw that it was completely different from the corridor they’d just come from. The three of them stood in a circular chamber, and while the walls outside had been golden and gilded, the chamber’s walls were gray and plain. Beyond that, the chamber was also completely empty—save for a pedestal standing in the center of the room, with a small wooden box sitting atop it.

When Ethan locked eyes with the box, his heart rate spiked. Everything around him seemed to fall away. The room wasn’t real. Malina and Andrew were a distant memory. It was only him, the box, and what he instinctively knew lay within it.

He barely registered that he had moved forward until he was standing directly in front of the box, his hands reaching out to take it. They were around to wrap around it when suddenly, a hand gripped his wrist, breaking him out of his trance. 

“Wait,” Malina hissed, pulling his hand back. “It could be trapped. Don’t open it yet.”

“It’s not trapped,” Andrew said, appearing on Ethan’s other side. “I’m the one that hid this ring, remember? Why would I trap it?”

“How would you remember if you did or didn’t?” Malina countered. “Hecate wiped your memories, remember?”

Andrew faltered. “I—I know I wouldn’t do that. I know myself, Malina. The only spell I put on the box was the one Hecate asked me to.”

Ethan tried to blink the confusion from his eyes. He was still so enthralled by the box. He had to open it, he just had to. But Andrew’s words had momentarily shaken him out of it. “Spell? What spell?”

“Hecate had the ring-hiders—”

Malina snorted. “Ring-hiders? Is that what you called yourselves? Dumbest name I’ve ever heard.”

Andrew glared at her. “Hecate had us each cast a spell on the boxes, just in case anyone evil was ever able to find them,” he continued, explaining the situation to Ethan. “They can only be opened by you, Ethan.”

“Me?” Ethan blinked a few more times. The box’s power was so strong…and he wanted what was inside…

Andrew nodded. “You have to do this, Ethan. It has to be you. It can only be you.”

Malina seemed to (begrudgingly) accept that, as she stepped back. Andrew stepped back as well, and the two of them fell away again, leaving Ethan alone with the box. The power it seemed to have over him was so strong that he was scared to open it; what if he did, and the ring corrupted him? What if it made him just as power-hungry as Tiamat? Hecate had said that the rings were infused with dark and evil qualities that Tiamat favored. What if just seeing the ring made Ethan go dark side?

 _No,_ said the voice of reason in his head. _Hecate said that those qualities were purified to be used against Tiamat. The ring has power over you because it’s your destiny, and there’s no avoiding your destiny. Open the box._

Ethan opened the box.

Sitting inside was the ring. After coming so far, and enduring so much, it really didn’t look like much. It was small, and didn’t even look like it would fit on Ethan’s fingers. Its band was pure silver, and resting in the prongs was a gleaming red ruby.

Once Ethan laid eyes on it, his fears were alleviated. The ring radiated warm energy, and suddenly, for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt completely safe. But there was still a darkness, lurking just beneath the surface; Ethan could feel it. The ring would only do good things if wielded by a good person, like Ethan. If someone evil got a hold of it…Ethan shuddered to think of what could happen. 

He reached inside the box and picked up the ring. His senses were beginning to return to him now that the ring was in his hands, and he was vaguely aware of Malina and Andrew shouting behind him. But the ring’s power was still too great, and he thought nothing of it. Instead, he held up the ring, and made to put it on his finger. Ethan watched as the band magically expanded to the perfect size for him to slip it on.

Ethan was about to put it on when he was hit in the back by a powerful blast of magical energy.

He tumbled forward, dazed by the blow and crashing into the pedestal. Both he and it toppled to the ground, and the ring fell from his hands. The second it was out of his hands, his trance lifted, and Ethan could finally think clearly again. 

He hit the ground hard, but with his senses recovered, he propped himself up and turned to see that something very bad had happened behind him while he’d been preoccupied by the ring. Andrew and Malina were pinned to opposite walls by some magical force, struggling against it, but to no avail. Standing over the fallen pedestal was a tall man with gleaming black skin and fiery, red eyes. In his hand he held a war scythe, and around his neck hung a gleaming white ankh. He was bare-chested and incredibly muscular, with fiery red wristlets on his arms and a shenti draped around his waist. What startled Ethan most of all was the tail—it was furry, forked, and not from any animal Ethan knew.

The man grinned coldly at Ethan. “I must thank you, Chosen One,” he said in a rumbling, powerful voice. “For years, I have been trapped here, unable to even enter the pyramid to retrieve the ring for my mistress. You have done my job quite well for me. I will make sure you are rewarded in Tiamat’s new world, should you survive that long.”

A fire of courage lit in Ethan’s chest—and on his fists—as he realized that the man was reaching down to get the ring. He was immediately on his feet. “News flash, asshole. This is holy ground. Demons can’t be here.”

The man’s eyes flashed. “Good for me, then, for I am not a demon.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “You mean—”

“Yes,” the man said, still giving Ethan that cold grin. “I am a god.”

He thrust his hand outwards, and Ethan flew backwards. He slammed into the wall, crying out as pain flared in his back. He tried to move, but something pinned him back—likely the same force that trapped Malina and Andrew. Likely coming from…from this god.

Ethan couldn’t believe that they had finally met an unfriendly god. Every god they had met so far had been an ally to them—even Zevoa, whom Malina and Andrew had insisted not to trust. It was so completely alien to Ethan that a god could be against them, and side with the creature that wanted to destroy the gods. He was having a bit of trouble wrapping his head around it.

Anger flared in his chest as he watched the man reach down and pick the ring up off the ground from where it had fallen. A hungry gleam shone in the man’s eyes as he slipped the ring on with ease, only serving to make Ethan even angrier.

“Wh—who—” he managed to sputter out against the force that was pressing against his chest, making it difficult to speak—and even breathe.

The man cackled. “You should already know who I am, boy. Did the Chevaliers teach you nothing?” He looked at Malina and Andrew, who were still struggling, murder in their eyes. “I suppose not. They’ve never been very good at dealing with their enemies, so why would they even speak of them?”

Turning back towards Ethan, the man dropped low in a mocking bow. “My dearest ‘Chosen One’, my name is Set. God of the desert, chaos, and violence. The little sandstorm you encountered out in the mortal world was my doing, of course. Just a little something to make your day that much more miserable. All in a day’s work, after all.”

“H—how—”

“Did I follow you in here undetected?” Set finished for him. He smirked. “Being the god of the desert has its perks, Ethan Locke. For one, I can change my body from this—” he gestured at himself “—into sand, and then blow where I was please. Once I was at the end of the corridor, well, then, all you lot had to do was open the last door. And as all of your attention was diverted to the ring, I re-materialized, and took care of your friends here.”

Set held his hand to his face, admiring the ring. “Although, Ethan Locke, I must say, I don’t blame you for being so enthralled by this little beauty. Even from outside of the pyramid, I could feel its power.” He flashed Ethan that unsettling, cold grin again. “Tiamat will reward me greatly for recovering it. And, as I said, I owe it all to you.”

He touched his war scythe to the ankh around his neck, and it began to glow. “I think I already know the first thing I’ll do with it,” Set said. “It should please Tiamat very much.”

The ankh’s glow died, and Set disintegrated, melting into sand. The sand swirled around the room for a few moments, getting into Ethan’s eyes and blinding him. By the time he had blinked it out, all traces of Set were gone. The force holding him back lifted, and he fell to the ground, coughing and gasping.

Ethan looked up once he’d regained his breath, to see Andrew and Malina also free from their magical bonds, staring at him—Andrew with confusion and trepidation, Malina with pure contempt. He felt himself pale.

“Guys, I—I’m sorry—the ring, it—” But no explanation Ethan could muster would be good enough, he knew. He’d screwed up. Badly. And now, an evil god of chaos and violence was in possession of the ring. Everything had gone south at light speed, and it was all Ethan’s fault.

“Whatever,” Malina grumbled, glaring at him. “We have bigger problems to deal with now than your inability to pay the slightest goddamn bit of attention.”

“Malina—” Andrew chided.

“Shut up, Andrew,” she barked, getting to her feet. “Set is the priority now. We have to get the ring back. Where would he have gone?”

Andrew stood, too, brushing himself off. “The mortal world, for sure. The ruby ring…it holds terrible power in the wrong hands.” Ethan felt his face get hot as Andrew nervously glanced over at him when he said that. “He’ll want to attack the mortals to gain Tiamat’s favor.”

“Okay,” Malina said. “Back to the mortal world, then.” 

Andrew nodded, and turned to make a portal on the wall. He leapt through it without any hesitation. Malina was about to jump in after him when she looked over at Ethan, the anger still etched deep into her face. “You coming or what?”

Ethan realized he was still on the ground. He clambered to his feet. “Y—yeah. Sorry.”

Malina rolled her eyes. “Don’t mess it up this time. It’s not like you haven’t done enough already.” 

It was harsh, but Ethan deserved it. He’d put the entire quest in jeopardy, and now, the three of them had to scramble to fix it. Malina jumped through the portal without looking back at him, and Ethan took a deep breath before slowly following her through.

***

The sun had set outside in the mortal world, but the world was still illuminated by the unusually vibrant moon and stars in the night sky. Ethan could still see clearly. And fortunately so—because he came out of the portal and stumbled right into a trap.

Malina and Andrew already stood there on the empty plateau, Andrew’s staff raised and Malina’s hands crackling with energy. At first Ethan wasn’t sure why they weren’t attacking, but then he followed their gazes and saw why. 

Between two of the tourist stands stood Set and another man. This man, however, was drastically different. He also had dark skin, though it was considerably lighter than Set’s; more of an olive tone. He was skinnier than Set, too, but no less intimidating. He wore a pair of stonewashed black jeans, and a plain red V-neck T-shirt covered by a leather jacket. When the man turned to pick something up from the tourist stand next to him—which was selling plushies of the Egyptian gods—Ethan saw that the back of his jacket had a picture of a flaming skull, adorned by the fiery words Hell’s Angels. His shaggy black hair very nearly covered his eyes, and Ethan half wished that they did; the man’s eyes were a cold, icy blue that literally felt like they were piercing Ethan’s soul.

The stranger held up a plushie of Ra, the sun god, and smirked, showing it to Set. “If only this were the real Ra, hmm?” he said, his voice deep, rich, and inviting, inflected with an accent Ethan didn’t quite recognize. “Then, destroying him would be as easy as…”

He finished his sentence by magically ripping the plushie apart. Stuffing flew across the plateau around them. 

Set laughed. “Yes, if only. But with this—” he held up the ring on his finger “—I doubt we shall see much trouble.”

The man chuckled. “Yes, yes, I suppose.”

“Who is that?” Ethan whispered. Whoever he was, he must have scared Malina and Andrew half to death, because they still weren’t attacking. They simply stood there, staring hard.

“Someone we’d hoped you would never meet,” Andrew muttered.

“I heard that!” the stranger called. “A little rude, if you ask me. I personally quite wanted to meet you, Ethan Locke. A pleasure, then, that we are finally able to.”

“Who are you?” Ethan shouted, summoning fire to his fists. He was through with playing games. He wanted the ring back, and he wanted it back right that very second. It was still calling to him—begging him to take it back from Set by any means necessary, and filling him with a newfound determination.

The stranger smirked. “A man of business, I see. Cutting right to the chase, eh?” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I, Ethan Locke, am Abaddon, king of the army of locusts, Hell’s avenging angel, Tiamat’s first general, and—” he pointed at Ethan with a mirthless grin “—your worst enemy.”

“I think that position is already taken by your commander Tiamat,” Ethan said. “But nice try.”

He was trying to sound brave, but inwardly, he was shaking like a scared little kitten. Ethan had only heard of Abaddon in passing before—back when Malina and Andrew had discussed him at Dofri’s house in Alfheim—but he had also hoped he would never have to meet the general. And now that Abaddon was here, in the flesh…that didn’t bode well.

Ethan’s blood ran cold as he realized that the three of them had walked right into a trap. Set had led them out here so Abaddon could tear them apart. 

Abaddon smirked again. “Brave words coming from someone who couldn’t even stop Set from taking the ring, Ethan Locke.”

Set grunted. “It was easy. Ethan Locke is weak! Like taking figs from a child!”

Abaddon glanced over at Set. “Sure, Set. I’m sure it was exactly like that.”

Set raised his war scythe. “And now, we shall tear them apart! Glory to Tiamat!”

“You can try,” Malina snarled. “It’s three on two. You’re outnumbered.” As confident as she sounded, Ethan knew she was just saving face. Her face was steeled with determination, but her eyes were filled with fear. Ethan had never seen Malina afraid. That meant Abaddon was even worse than he’d thought.

Abaddon chuckled, and raised a hand to Set, who lowered his war scythe in confusion. “Ah, but you see, my dear sun goddess, we will not be fighting alone. We will have the power of Tiamat by our side.”

“How?” Andrew said. “She’s chained up beneath Tartarus. She can’t help you from all the way down there.”

Abaddon snapped his fingers and grinned, and for a hot second, the demon reminded Ethan of a game show host. “And that’s where you’re wrong, Anshar!” he cried. He reached out to Set and snapped his fingers again impatiently. “The ring, Set.”

Set glared at Abaddon, instinctively pulling his hand back. “But Tiamat said I could have it.”

Abaddon spluttered, staring at the god in confusion. “What? No, she didn’t.”

“Yes, she did!”

“Set, you’re a terrible liar, now just—Set, just give me the ring—you imbecile—”

“No, it’s mine—I found it, it’s mine—let go of my hand—!”

Ethan glanced at Malina and Andrew. “Should we—?”

Malina shrugged. “As long as they’re distracted.”

The three of them rushed as once, ready to attack and blow Set and Abaddon back to whatever hell they emerged from. But, Abaddon must have been expecting that, because he simply held out his hand, and the three of them flew backwards. Ethan hit the ground hard, splitting open his lip and feeling a searing pain flare in his knee. He saw Malina and Andrew land somewhere next to him.

“You think you’re slick, don’t you?” Abaddon said, finally yanking the ring off of Set’s finger, who immediately began trying to grab it back. “Set, if you don’t—Set, stop this at once!”

The demon waved his hand, and Set also flew back, crashing into an empty food stand. The stand crumbled around him, and he roared angrily from somewhere in the wreckage.

Abaddon turned back to Ethan, Malina, and Andrew. “The three of you thought you could attack me while I was distracted, eh? I would think a little more before trying that again. Tiamat didn’t make me her general for no reason, after all.”

Ethan watched as Set stood from the remains of the food stand, and half-hoped that the god would attack Abaddon again. Maybe he and his friends could use the confusion to attack again, but more cohesively this time. Unfortunately, Set simply walked to Abaddon’s side, and gripped his war scythe tightly, grumbling under his breath.

“Good boy,” Abaddon said triumphantly. Turning back to Ethan and the others, he said, “Now, you three, as I was saying—the power of Tiamat is with us.” He slipped the ring onto his finger and flexed his hand. The ruby began to glow, and Ethan’s stomach churned with anxiety. What was about to happen?

“You should remember well enough that all seven rings were imbued with a quality or qualities that Tiamat favored,” Abaddon continued. “Ciel blanketed them with some light magic, sure, but if someone who favors a little chaos over peace wields the rings…well, it’s sort of like ripping the curtain back, isn’t it?” 

He grinned as the ruby glowed even brighter. “Do you know what the ruby ring was imbued with, Ethan Locke? Darkness and panic. Two of Tiamat’s favorite things. And now I—” he held his hand to the sky and made a fist “—shall use them to cast the world into shadow. Even the playing field a bit.”

Before Ethan could react, a blinding red light burst out of the ruby, shooting straight up into the sky. He tried to stand, but his knee still hurt too much. All he could do was watch as the warning that both Zevoa and Triglav had given him, finally came true.

High above them, the sky itself was becoming encased in dark red crystal that spread so far so fast that within seconds, it was over the horizon and out of sight. The beam shining from the ruby continued for a few more moments before dying, and when it did, Abaddon lowered his hand and grinned. “And now, the globe is darkened. And mortal panic begins.”

“But—but the Wall—” Ethan began.

“Ningirama’s Wall won’t stop this,” Andrew muttered. “It’s too chaotic, too powerful. Mortals will see it for exactly what it is. And they’ll think it’s the apocalypse.”

“And it very well is!” Abaddon exclaimed. “This is the beginning of a new era, my friends. Tiamat’s Golden Age, as it were. It’s truly a shame that the three of you won’t be alive to see it.”

Set grunted. “Our mistress ordered that the boy be taken alive, Abaddon.”

Abaddon rolled his eyes. “Yes, Set, you idiot, I know that. But what I said has a lot more dramatic effect than ‘only one of you will be alive to see it’, now doesn’t it?”

Ethan couldn’t stop looking at the sky. He’d had his guesses about what ‘the crystal sky’ had meant, but this certainly hadn’t been one of them. The crystal casing cast all the world around them in an eerie red glow, but the darkness was nearly total. It was like being in a dark hallway that was only lit by the red lighting of an EXIT sign. 

Abaddon gestured at the three of them. Malina and Andrew hadn’t really moved from where they were also on the ground next to Ethan, but Ethan could tell that they were just as unnerved as he was. This was not a good situation that they found themselves in.

“You three are free to attack now,” the demon said cockily. “Although, just be aware, you will not win. There is some honor in going down fighting, or so I’ve heard. You’re more than welcome to do so.”

Malina wasted no time. She was immediately on her feet, and charged straight at Set. Abaddon cackled and exclaimed, “Feisty, isn’t she!” but Set was so startled that she’d come at him instead of Abaddon that the god didn’t have time react. Malina tackled him, and the two began their fight. 

Ethan struggled to his feet. His knew still hurt like hell, but the adrenaline rush of the impending fight was helping him to ignore it. Andrew stood next to him, and Abaddon turned to face them. “I suppose that leaves me to fight the two of you, then?”

Andrew raised his staff. “You won’t win this fight, Abaddon. That’s a promise.” Ethan didn’t feel so sure of that, but he raised his fists and set them aflame in an attempt to back Andrew up.

Abaddon chuckled. “We’ll see about that. I heard about what you did to Sehaqeq, Anshar. Even now, he struggles to escape the Duat. You think you can manage that with me?”

Andrew’s response was to cry out angrily and swing his staff towards the demon. Abaddon batted it aside easily, and Ethan watched as the demon’s hands changed from human to gnarled, beastly, three-clawed hands. Abaddon lashed out at Andrew with his claws, and Ethan, powering through the pain in his knee, used the demon’s momentary distraction to strike.

He landed a lucky flaming blow right on the back of Abaddon’s head. The demon cried out in pain, and whipped around to face Ethan. Ethan tried to blast Abaddon with a wave of flame, but the demon swiped through it with his hand and lunged, tackling Ethan to the ground and slashing at his chest, leaving a burning scratch mark that left Ethan screaming in pain.

Abaddon was shoved off of Ethan by Andrew, who made to slam down onto the demon’s face with his staff. But Abaddon grabbed the staff and overpowered Andrew’s strength with his own, shoving the staff upwards and smacking Andrew between the eyes. Andrew stumbled backwards, dazed, and Abaddon stood, advancing on the sky god.

“Enough games,” he snarled. “I don’t have time to fight you all night. And my mistress feeds me her power from the panic of mortals all across the globe. When I am finished, Anshar, you will be nothing more than a grease stain on the face of history.”

Ethan watched as the demon’s jacket tore open, and leathery bat wings burst forth from his body. A devil’s tail also ripped out of his backside, swishing around violently as if it was glad to be free. Andrew probably realized that this was an opportunity to take the fight to the air, because he did exactly that—he grabbed his staff, and flew upwards. Abaddon followed him, soaring with ease on his new wings.

Still wracked with pain from Abaddon’s claws, Ethan struggled to sit up, and heard a cry of pain come from his left. He looked over to see Malina and Set—or rather, Malina being defeated by Set. The god knelt on the ground, pinning her to the ground with his hand on her neck, not quite strangling her but keeping her in place nonetheless, no matter how much she struggled. She locked eyes with him, and the cry for help was clear. 

Ethan tried to move, but no sooner had he begun to try and stand when he heard a powerful blow, followed by a grunt come from above. A body crashed down next to him, and Ethan was horrified to see that it was Andrew’s, still conscious but barely so. A nasty welt was forming on his forehead. Abaddon landed with ease next to Set, holding Andrew’s staff in his hands.

Abaddon looked disappointed. “A pity,” he said. “After hearing so much about the three of you, I would’ve thought that you’d put up more of a fight.” He looked down at Malina, who was still struggling against Set’s steely grip. “I mean, the three of you killed both Ymir and Surtr. That’s no easy task. But then again, you had Ullr with you, didn’t you? Probably just got lucky with him there, I suppose.” He smirked. “Perhaps he is the one I should be hunting down, because you three…well, you’re nothing,” he finished with a laugh.

Set laughed as well. “The stupid sun goddess was easy to defeat. She is weak under the powers of darkness.”

Abaddon shrugged. “I suppose not all Chosen Ones can be winners. Maybe Hecate will pick a better one next time.” He chuckled. “Because I mean, really, what was she thinking, picking you three?”

He pointed at Ethan. “A mortal who can barely take care of himself—” he pointed to Andrew “—an out-of-touch sky god who should’ve faded away eons ago—” and finally, he pointed down at Malina, laughing “—and, well, my dear, you’re the strangest pick of all. Why Hecate would choose you of all people to fight against Tiamat, I have no idea.”

Malina’s eyes shone with tears of rage. “You—you asshole—”

Abaddon looked back at Ethan. “I mean, really. You know what she did, right? Hecate is a fool to trust her.”

Ethan was suddenly very confused and very scared. No, he didn’t know what Malina had done in her past, but he’d certainly heard plenty about it. And he had a sickening feeling that, as much as he secretly didn’t want to ever know, he was about to find out.

Sure enough, Abaddon caught his look of confusion and laughed again. “They didn’t tell you? Typical. Lesson number one, Ethan Locke, is that the ‘good guys’ always lie. They’ll never tell you the whole truth until it’s too late to do anything about it.” He pointed down at Malina. “But this one? You deserve to know the truth about her.”

Ethan realized with a sinking feeling that those weren’t tears of rage around Malina’s eyes. She was actually crying. 

But Abaddon continued. “Here’s the truth, Ethan Locke. Malina, sun goddess of the Inuit peoples, is a stone-cold traitor. She was usurped by Helios as the primary sun god, and well, her fragile little ego simply couldn’t handle that. Malina here pretended to be on the gods’ side in the first Chaos War, but she made a deal with Tiamat: if she delivered information on Hecate’s plans to Tiamat, then when the gods fell, Malina could have the pleasure of killing Helios herself and return to her full status as queen of the sun.” Abaddon tutted. “And she was a good spy, too, until she got careless and got found out. Enki, the Babylonian god of magic, and Hecate’s apprentice, discovered her deception, and she killed him to keep him from talking. And, what makes matters a little more complicated, Enki just so happened to be Anshar’s son.”

Ethan looked over at Andrew, who was still dazed, but seemed to be following the conversation. A wave of pain rippled across the god’s face, but Ethan could tell it wasn’t from the welt on his head. It was emotional pain, probably from remembering the death of his son. Ethan hadn’t even known Andrew had ever had a son. He didn’t look old enough. But then again, gods were timeless, and Andrew had been around at the beginning of time. 

“When Malina was fleeing the scene, she was caught by Ninsar, Enki’s young wife who had only just given birth to their baby girl Ninkurra,” Abaddon continued, grinning coldly down at Malina, who was crying full-force now. “Our dear friend Malina panicked, of course, so she killed Ninsar and her daughter, too, and fled. She knew that it was only a matter of time before the gods found out it was her, so she tried to find asylum with Tiamat.” The demon smirked. “But Tiamat refused, having no more use for Malina now that she could no longer be her spy. So, Malina went into hiding, but Hecate had begun a global manhunt for her, of course, after consulting the spirits of Enki and Ninsar and learning their killer’s identity. Malina was found very quickly, and cast down into the Fields of Punishment to be tortured by the torture god Orcus himself for all eternity.”

Ethan was stunned. He could barely process the information Abaddon had just given him. Malina had once been a spy for Tiamat? And not only that, but she’d killed people to try and keep it quiet. Not just anyone, either—Andrew’s son. His daughter-in-law. His infant granddaughter. And all for what? So she could be the primary sun deity again? The ends didn’t justify the means for Ethan. How could Andrew have forgiven that? How could _anyone_ have forgiven that?

And—he knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t help himself—she’d had the nerve to be angry with him at messing up with the ring in the pyramid? Sure, he’d screwed up badly, but it was nothing compared to senseless killing for the sake of killing. The things Malina had done were a thousand times worse than the things he’d done, any day. She had no right to be angry with Ethan about anything. Did she even have the right to be here? Ethan wasn’t really quite sure any longer.

Malina must have seen the look of disgust and confusion on Ethan’s face, because she began sobbing even harder. “Ethan, I—” she struggled to say against Set’s grip. “I’m sorry, I—Ethan—”

Abaddon sneered. “Yes, you see her for what she is now, don’t you, Ethan Locke? The monster that she truly is. That she has always been, and always will be. It would seem that Hecate has freed her of her bonds, and given her a ‘second chance’, as it were.” He shrugged. “But really, it’s only a matter of time before she betrays the Chevaliers again and returns back to our side. An evil like that can never truly change. Once a traitor, always a traitor, right?” 

He leaned down to Malina, who glared at him with pure hatred and rage. “Don’t worry, Malina. Tiamat will welcome you this time, I promise. You’ll have to suffer through a few thousand lashes first, of course, for aiding the enemy, but you have a place with us whenever you decide to abandon the losing side. I’ll make sure of it.”

Malina did her best to spit up in his face, and managed a few flecks of it. “Go—go to hell—”

Abaddon chuckled. “A few steps ahead of you on that one, my dear.” He stood back up, and kept talking, but Ethan wasn’t listening anymore. Something Abaddon had said had sparked something in Ethan. _Once a traitor, always a traitor._ Triglav had said that to him. 

The rest of Triglav’s message came rushing back to him. _The shadows of Giza…together we will break the barrier…_ Ethan’s eyes widened as he realized what he had to do.

Andrew was just beginning to really stir next to him, struggling to get to his feet. Malina was still sobbing under Set’s grip, and Set was still talking about something unimportant. Malina locked eyes with Ethan, and Ethan couldn’t help projecting his anger and disgust straight at her. His hands began to crackle softly with the familiar portal energy, and she noticed. Her eyes widened. 

“Ethan—” she tried to say, tears streaming across her face. “Ethan, please—I’m sorry—Ethan, no—”

But it was too late. Ethan summoned the portal below him, and felt himself tumbling down into the Duat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy, isn't it? Malina's secret past has finally come to light...and boy, she's done some shit. And Ethan's understandably angry with her, and feeling a little betrayed. But that's gonna have to wait a little bit...because he still has a job to do. 
> 
> Keeping the notes a little light here because I don't want to take away from the intensity of the scene. Hope it works.
> 
> New pronunciations:  
> Set = c'mon you should know how to say this  
> Abaddon = AB-uh-don
> 
> Song title is "Crystal Night" The Buzzcocks.
> 
> Until next time.


	37. A Sky Full of Stars

Ethan was unsurprised to find that he landed inside the pyramid rather than outside of it. He hadn’t been aiming for a specific spot—just the Duat in the surrounding area in general—but he knew, deep down, that there was something pulling him there. Pulling him to a spot deep inside the pyramid that he had to get to if he stood any chance at defeating Abaddon and Set.

He stood. His knee and his chest were on fire, but he stood. And he started walking. Well, really, it was more like limping, but at least he was moving. He’d been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to, but the adrenaline was keeping him on his feet.

Ethan’s mind was moving at a million miles a minute. So much had happened over the past hour—almost too much for him to process. The ring, Set, Abaddon, the revelation of Malina’s past…Ethan was going to drive himself crazy if he kept dwelling on it.

So, he didn’t. It took a lot of mental willpower, but Ethan managed to shove all those dark and terrible thoughts to the back of his mind. There was only one thing he needed to be thinking about, and that was getting to the wall of shadows that he and the others had passed before.

It was a portal of some kind. Ethan didn’t know how he knew, but he just instinctively did. And he had a pretty good idea of where it would take him. All he had to do was get to it, and all of this could be over. 

But it would never truly be over. Abaddon had thoroughly emptied everyone’s closet of skeletons, and they would have to deal with the aftermath of that at some point. But Ethan didn’t care. He’d managed to portal away before Set and Abaddon could stop him, but one of them would likely try to come after him (if they knew where he went at all). But at least one of them would stay on that plateau, that much was for certain. And as long as that happened, Ethan’s friends were still in danger, because they were in no condition to fight. He had to get to that portal so he could save his friends.

It dimly occurred to Ethan through the haze of pain he was fighting through that he still instinctually thought of Malina as a friend. It made sense, he supposed. They’d been through so much together; it would be hard to throw all of that away so easily. And, what was more, now that Ethan was beginning to clear his head a bit, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to. Malina had risked herself to save his and Andrew’s lives against the criosphinx back at Thoth’s mansion. She had saved his life from Sehaqeq way back at Yale. Malina had been his first friend in all of this, and she really did seem to care about him. Ethan desperately wanted to believe she was on his side.

But how could he trust her anymore, now that he knew what she’d done?

Fortunately, Ethan reached the portal relatively quickly. He stood in front of it for a few moments, watching as the shadows hissed and swirled within each other, more violently so now that Ethan was there. They seemed to be responding to him, like they wanted him to step into the darkness. It occurred to Ethan that there was a strong chance this was a trap. Now that he knew gods could be evil, who was to say Triglav hadn’t given him bad information? 

It was too late, though. He had nowhere else to go. Ethan had no other choice but to take a leap of faith.

He stepped forward, the last of his strength giving way as the pain became too much. He fell into the shadows and blacked out.

***

Ethan awoke in a regular living room. 

At first, he wasn’t awake enough to really process what was going on, and his sleep-addled brain convinced him that he was back in New Haven, crashing on his friend Derek’s couch, like he always did when he went over to Derek’s apartment downtown but stayed too late to walk back home. 

For one thing, he was lying on a beaten-up leather couch that was exactly like the one Derek had. The TV sat across the room, still on and playing scenes from some late-night game show rerun. Between the TV and the couch lay a coffee table, with a reclining chair next to it, just like in Derek’s apartment. It was easy to believe that Derek was asleep just in the next room, and Ethan could just get up, grab some water from the fridge, and then go back to sleep. It was easy to believe that all the events of the past three months were nothing more than a dream.

But Ethan knew better. As someone who had suffered from terrifying nightmares every night for nearly all of his life, he knew the difference between dreams and real life. It didn’t long for his mind to come out of its haze and confirm that, no, this was not Derek’s apartment. That raised the question, then: where was it?

He sat up, and a dull aching pain flared in his chest from where Abaddon had scratched him. He winced, but fought through it—it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before—and looked around. 

The apartment was small, but appeared to be normal at first glance. It appeared to be a one-bedroom apartment—Ethan could guess that by the closed door down the hall to the left, which was right next to an open door that led into a bathroom. The rest of the apartment was made up of a living room, an entrance hall, and a kitchen. The hall led through the living room and past the kitchen, and in the dim light, Ethan could see pictures hanging on the wall, though he couldn’t make out who was in them. Behind the couch was a half-wall, and looking over it, Ethan could see into the rectangular kitchen that didn’t seem like much. 

For the life of him, Ethan couldn’t figure out where he was. It definitely wasn’t Derek’s apartment; the layout wasn’t the same, and it was a lot cleaner and more kempt. But he’d been right; the shadows in the pyramid had been a portal, apparently leading here. So wherever “here” was, it had to be important. 

Ethan swung his legs over the edge of the couch and shakily got to his feet. He was surprised to find that, although his chest still ached, the pain in his knee was, for the most part, gone. It was still sore, but he could move without too much trouble. That was good. But it also made him wonder how long he’d been there. He looked around for a clock, but found none. 

That was when he noticed the glow. He hadn’t seen it before, only noticing the dim light coming from the TV, and the lowered lights in the kitchen. Ethan looked over at the window, and he saw an eerie red glow gently pulsating from beneath the drawn shades. A familiar red glow.

Not wanting to believe it, but needing to find out, Ethan slowly walked over to the window, and pulled up the shade. 

Ethan could barely register what he was seeing, but there it was, right in front of him. Everywhere he looked through the window, all he saw was night sky—not like it was nighttime, but like the apartment was floating through space. And it very well might have been, because right in front of him, Ethan was staring down at Earth—or rather, a part of it, because the window wasn’t far enough away to see the entire planet. And, worst of all, Earth was still encased in the crystal barrier that Abaddon had created.

He stumbled backwards, startled by what he was seeing, and turned to the hallway. Now that he was close, he could make out the faces on the pictures. There were five, each one of a different person, and they looked like a family to Ethan. He walked along the hall, gazing at the different pictures. 

One was of an older black man dressed in a handsome brown suit, taken like a candid while he sat at a map; it looked like he was a cartographer of some kind. The next one showed a laughing black teenager in a varsity letter jacket as he posed in front of a ruby-red obelisk. The third photo was definitely a candid, featuring a handsomely dressed but slightly disheveled black man in what looked like a groom’s suit—Ethan guessed it was his wedding day. 

The fourth photo showed the first woman in the bunch, but she wasn’t the mother; she looked too young, between the ages of the second and third men. Like the rest of them, she was black, and she stood in a bar in a bartender’s uniform, while lights flashed in the mirror behind her. She cleaned out a glass as she gave the camera a pained expression. She clearly didn’t want to be there, Ethan thought. And the fifth picture…

Ethan nearly fell backwards. He knew perfectly well who the person in the fifth photo was. The man in the photo stood uncomfortably with a party hat on his head—Ethan guessed he was at a birthday party of some sort, judging by the streamers in the background—and wore a moody expression that twisted his features, but Ethan would never forget that face.

It was Set. Ethan was in the apartment of someone who had a photo of Set framed lovingly on the wall. That didn’t bode well at all. 

Ethan turned away from the pictures, panic beginning to bubble up in his chest, and ran straight into a woman. He guessed she was the owner of the apartment. She’d been standing behind him, and they both cried out in shock as they ran into each other. 

“Oh, dear me, my apologies, Ethan Locke!” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?” Her tone was of absolute sincerity, but Ethan’s gut instinct told him not to trust her. Anyone who had a connection to Set like that couldn’t be trusted. Not by any means.

“I—who—” Unable to form a complete question, Ethan simply pointed back at the picture of Set. Maybe if he knew who this woman was, he could formulate a better escape strategy.

The woman followed where he was pointing, and sighed. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose we have much to discuss. Please, you should lie back down. You’re not completely healed yet. I’ll fix you a drink.”

She turned and walked into the kitchen. Ethan’s guard lowered ever so slightly. She didn’t seem threatening. Hell, she wasn’t even that tall—she’d only come up to Ethan’s chin. She was dressed in pink-and-red-and-orange silk pajamas that kind of reminded Ethan of a sunset. If Ethan had to guess, she was the mother in the family presented on the wall; she was black, like them, an older woman, and she shared some similar facial features. Her hair was done in neat, short braids, and although her frame was a bit bony, Ethan no doubt that she could take him down in a fight if it came to that. She just…seemed powerful. So, for the time being, Ethan decided to play along. He would see if he could trust her.

He walked over to the half-wall between the living room and kitchen, and rested his arms on the counter. He watched as she pulled a jug of water from the fridge, and then opened a cabinet, pulling out a canister of Lipton iced tea mix. “Do you like iced tea, Ethan Locke?” she asked, glancing over at him. “I’m a big fan of it myself. I must confess, it’s all I drink these days.”

“Uh…sure,” Ethan said. “Peach, if you have it.”

She chuckled. “If I have it. It’s the only good flavor.”

Ethan couldn’t help but grin. “Agreed.” Whoever this woman, she radiated such warm and maternal energy that Ethan couldn’t help but feel relaxed and comfortable in her presence. Maybe he could trust her after all. But, he still had to know one thing. “If you don’t mind my asking…who are you?”

The woman poured some water into a glass and dumped the powder in, looking up at Ethan as she answered, “Why, I’m Nut, of course. Mother of the sky.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I am thankful that you got Triglav’s message, and understood it correctly,” Nut said. “He can be a bit scatterbrained at times, but he’s the only one of my subjects who comes to visit me anymore.” She began to stir the powder in. “It isn’t easy for people to find me these days, especially since the only direct entrance to my home is in that pyramid.”

“Really?” Ethan asked. “No visitors at all?” She shook her head, and that saddened Ethan. “But what about them?” he asked, pointing to the pictures. “They look like they’re your family. Shouldn’t they visit you?”

Nut glanced back at the pictures, and Ethan saw that her eyes were beginning to shine with tears. “Yes…I’m sure they would love to very much. But they cannot. And I can never leave here, so I cannot visit them, either.”

Strands were starting to connect themselves in Ethan’s head—a famous story that he’d heard during his time on Rangiroa, featuring Nut. He struggled to remember for a few moments, and once he did, he felt like an asshole for ever bringing it up. “Right,” he said. “I—I forgot about that whole situation. I’m sorry.”

Nut smiled warmly at him, blinking away her tears. “It’s alright, Ethan Locke. You meant no harm. And my husband Geb does send me pictures of himself and my children from time to time. I frame my favorites. The ones you see there are the most recent ones—from the 80’s.”

Ethan remembered the whole story now: Nut and Geb, the sky and the earth, had fallen in love, and had joined together in harmony. But Ra had heard some sort of prophecy foretelling that one of Nut’s children would overthrow him, so he’d ordered the wind god Shu to separate them and keep them apart forever, as well as cursing a pregnant Nut so that she could never give birth on any day of the year. Nut, desperate to give birth, consulted Thoth for help, and with his aid, the two of them gambled with the moon god Khonsu and won enough moonlight to add five more days onto the end of the year—one for each of Nut’s children, thereby averting the curse, since these extra days weren’t technically a part of the year.

But if Ethan remembered correctly, there were five children: Horus, Osiris, Nephthys, Set, and…Isis. But wasn’t she Hecate’s daughter? And if she was Nut’s, then why wasn’t there a picture of her on the wall?

He voiced this thought, curious, and Nut chuckled as she finished stirring the drinks and handed one over the counter to Ethan. “As I said, we have much to discuss, Ethan Locke,” she said. “And, if you wish, that can be one of them.”

Ethan nodded, and went to sit on the couch. Nut rounded the corner, drink in hand, and sat on the chair. The TV kept playing in the background, and Ethan heard an exaggerated groan from the audience as some contestant lost some prize.

Nut took a few sips from her drink before speaking: “Well, Ethan Locke, Isis’s history is…tragic, to say the least. She began as Io, a demigod priestess to Hera in ancient Greece. Her father was mortal, and her mother, the goddess Hecate. Hera favored her, but unfortunately, Zeus did as well. And as we all know, once Zeus favors a woman, there is no stopping him,” she said with a grimace.

Ethan nodded. “Unfortunately.”

Nut shrugged. “And, well, Zeus decided to be halfway honorable this time,” she continued, “by approaching Io’s father and demanding he give over his daughter to be Zeus’s consort. Her father could hardly refuse a god, and turned Io over without a second thought. Io suffered greatly as Zeus’s concubine for too long, and to make matters worse, Zeus kept their relationship (if you could call it that) secret from Hera, as Io was still Hera’s priestess.”

“That’s disgusting,” Ethan said. 

“That is Zeus,” Nut said with a wave of her hand. “The man has no self-control, and views women as nothing more than objects. It is revolting, yes, but we are powerless to ever change his mind. The best we can do is fight back whenever we can.” She set her drink down on the coffee table. “And fight back Hecate did. When she discovered what was going on, she first took out her anger on Io’s father by killing him, and then snuck into Olympus to free her daughter—and just in time, as well, for Hera had also learned of Zeus’s deception, and instead of reprimanding her husband, chose to take out her vengeance on Io.” Nut rolled her eyes. “The nerve of her.

“Hecate and Io fled from Hera’s wrath, but there was nowhere in Greece they could hide where Hera would not find them. So, in a desperate attempt to save her daughter’s life, she reached out to the other pantheons, seeking safe asylum for Io, but no one would take her. Finally, the message reached me, and out of compassion, I decided to take her in.

“At the time, I was already pregnant with my four children, and with Thoth’s help, Hecate and I wove a spell. Io disappeared from Greece, and as Hera could not find her, her anger eventually died. Meanwhile, I gambled for a fifth day with Khonsu, and pretended to give birth to Io on that extra day. She changed her name to Isis, and merged with the Egyptian pantheon as my daughter.

“For a long time, only I, Thoth, Hecate, and Isis were aware of the deception,” Nut continued. “Even Geb thought she was his own daughter, and my children thought she was their sister. But, the truth came out eventually, as the truth is wont to do. Fortunately, my family understood the need for the deception, and forgave me. Ra and Hera, however, were on the warpath. They both wanted to destroy her, but could not; for at the time, there were ancient laws in place forbidding the killing of gods from other pantheons. Ra could not kill her for she was originally Greek, and Hera could not kill her for she was fully assimilated into Egyptian. Therefore, she was safe, and over time, their anger towards her faded once more. Isis has remained safe ever since.”

Ethan took a few sips from his drink before simply responding, “Wow.” Because what else could he say to a story like that?

Nut chuckled. “Yes, Ethan Locke. ‘Wow’ is right.” She crossed her legs. “I hold a deep love for Isis, of course, for she was raised as my daughter. But, at the end of the day, she is Hecate’s family. She wanted to stay with us both, but could not. So, although she ultimately chose Hecate, she chose to keep her Egyptian name as a compromise.” 

Nut smiled sadly at the wall. “The rest of my family does not see her much anymore—not even Osiris, her husband. That is why I have no pictures of her. Should I ever get one, it would be a happy day indeed, and I would put her right next to Osiris where she belongs.” Her eyes shone with tears again. “My family would be complete once more.”

Ethan couldn’t help but pity Nut. Here she was, all alone in a tiny apartment in the sky, forbidden from ever seeing the people she loved most. That was no way to live. 

“I know it doesn’t mean much, coming from me,” Ethan said. “But I’m sorry. For everything you’ve had to go through.”

Nut smiled. “I appreciate your kindness, Ethan Locke, but I have made my peace with my burden. A few thousand millennia can give one ample time to reflect and adjust.”

Ethan nodded, and the conversation probably would’ve stopped there. But there was one thing she’d said earlier that caught his attention. He had to ask about it. “Nut…if you don’t mind my asking…you said there’s an ancient law forbidding the gods from killing across pantheons. Is that still true?”

Nut sighed. “I wish I could say it was, Ethan Locke. But that law was broken in the first war against chaos, by a single goddess who opened the door for everyone else to do it.” She arched an eyebrow at Ethan, as if he knew who she meant.

And, unfortunately, he did. “Malina,” he said, the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth. His anger began to bubble up inside him once more.

Nut nodded solemnly. “You are angry with her, aren’t you?”

“Angry doesn’t even begin to cut it,” Ethan said. “You know the things she’s done? How can anyone forgive that?”

Nut sighed, and didn’t say anything for a long time. She was gazing off somewhere past Ethan, her eyes sad and wistful. Ethan turned to follow her gaze, and saw that she was staring at the picture of Set. Almost immediately, he understood.

“My son has done some truly evil things,” Nut said. “It is a consequence of his heritage. He and his siblings were cast out by the rest of the pantheon for fear of incurring Ra’s wrath. And although he was the eldest son, and should have inherited everything, it was his younger brothers, Osiris and Horus, who ultimately became the kings of Egypt. Set was cast aside, and forgotten.”

Already, Ethan was beginning to see the parallels between Malina and Set—and he didn’t like what they implied. “But how can that excuse the things he’s done?” he asked.

“It doesn’t,” she said simply. Ethan blinked in surprise. He hadn’t really expected such an answer, or for Nut to put it so bluntly. The goddess continued: “All beings must be held accountable for their actions, gods even more so. Whether or not they actually are…well, that is a different story altogether.” Ethan grimaced as Zeus very obviously came to his mind. 

“My son, as well as Malina, have both been held accountable,” Nut continued. “Malina suffered for thousands of years at the hands of Orcus, one of the most sadistic creatures to ever walk the earth. And when Set was finally defeated by Horus, he suffered terrible punishments at Isis’s hands.”

“But Set goes back to doing evil things just because he enjoys it,” Ethan insisted. “Who’s to say Malina won’t do the same?” A wave of emotional hurt flashed across Nut’s face, and Ethan realized what he was doing. “I—I’m sorry. He’s your son. I shouldn’t be talking about him like that.”

Nut shook her head. “No, Ethan Locke, you are right. Cruel fate has twisted my son beyond the help of the gods.” She looked back up at the picture, eyes shining once more. “But that does not mean I have stopped loving him, or caring for him. And should he ever see the light, and abandon Tiamat’s ranks, he will always have a home with me.”

Ethan realized now what Nut was really saying. “You’re telling me I should just…forgive Malina. Just like that.”

“It can be difficult, I know,” Nut said. “But, believe it or not, Anshar did so. Centuries ago, in fact. Hecate decided to trust her once more. Malina and Set may be similar in their pasts, but their futures can still be different.”

Nut picked up her glass and took another sip before continuing. “Compassion and forgiveness are two of the most powerful weapons in the face of darkness. Never forget that. Some people—like my son—are too far gone. I love him still because I am his mother. Malina still has a chance, and a willingness, to achieve redemption. Show her the kindness she needs, and she may yet have it.”

Ethan was quiet for a few moments, turning it over and over in his head. It was difficult to wrap his head around, but what Nut was saying made sense. As much as Nut loved him, Set was too far gone to be saved by anyone’s love and kindness, let alone his mother’s. Malina wasn’t; not yet. Maybe, once upon a time, Set had been like Malina, but had been twisted into pure evil by the rejection of the other gods. If Ethan really cared about Malina, he could help guide her away from that future…simply by forgiving her.

“It’s hard,” he admitted softly. “It’s really hard.”

Nut nodded sympathetically. “I know. And ultimately, it’s your decision. But the fate that befell my son is horrifically cruel. I would like to never see it happen to anyone else.”

Ethan nodded in return. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure whether he would forgive her or not. But there was a rational side of him that told him that the things she’d done hadn’t even happened to him. They had happened, largely, to Andrew. And he had forgiven her. That much was clear.

If Andrew could forgive it, maybe Ethan could, too.

“So why did you call me up here?” Ethan asked, eager to get away to a new topic. “I’m guessing you didn’t send Triglav all that way for nothing.”

Nut gave Ethan a small smile. “No, Ethan Locke. I did not. I sent Triglav because I knew we would need each other’s help.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “A goddess needs my help?”

Nut stood, and Ethan felt compelled to stand, too. She crossed to the window, beckoning for him to follow. He did, and she lifted the shade, so they could look down at the crystal barrier. Its red glow filled the dimly lit room.

“I foresaw long ago that this would occur,” Nut explained. “I have since spent my time gathering power, hoping that when the day finally came, I would be able to shatter it myself.” She shook her head. “Alas, I cannot. I still am not strong enough.”

“So…where do I come in?” Ethan asked. “You need me to do it?”

Nut laughed. “No, no, Ethan Locke,” she said. “Not to sound mean, but you could never do it alone. The magic keeping the barrier alive is too powerful.”

“Then what can we do about it?”

“We can join our power,” Nut said simply. “Separately, we would both fail. But together, we stand a chance.”

“A chance?” Ethan asked incredulously. Not even a guarantee? That didn’t sound good to Ethan.

“I am afraid ‘a chance’ is all we have,” Nut said grimly. “It is our best option.”

“But…how?” Ethan asked. “I’m not really that well-versed in magic yet. I’m not that powerful.”

Nut stared at him in silence for a few moments before asking, “Do you really still believe that, Ethan Locke? After everything you have done, after how far you have come? You really still believe you are weak?”

Ethan blinked. What was she saying? She sounded like Odin, during the pep talk he’d given Ethan in Alfheim. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Nut shook her head. “Ethan Locke, you truly have a long way to go when it comes to believing in yourself. You reached the ring! No one else has, ever before.”

That threw Ethan. “Wait—what? What do you mean, no one else? People have done this before?”

Nut looked at him strangely. “Why…yes. I would have thought that was obvious.”

All of a sudden, some of the odd things that gods had said to Ethan over the course of the quest were starting to click for him. Thoth had said he’d translated the Enigmatic Lexicon before. Odin had implied he’d met other Chosen Ones before. Triglav had made a passing comment about telling Hecate to “pick another one.” Did all of that mean…?

“You mean there have been other Chosen Ones?” Ethan asked, his head starting to hurt. “People before me?”

Nut’s eyes widened. “Oh. I wasn’t aware that you didn’t know that.”

Ethan shook his head lamely. Great. Now he had something else impossibly complex to wrap his head around.

“But yes,” Nut continued. “There have been.”

“But—but Isis’s vision—” Ethan managed to stammer out. He hoped Nut knew what he meant: Isis’s vision of a Chosen One, way back during the first Chaos War.

Thankfully, Nut nodded. “Yes, she did have one. But it was vague, and unclear as to exactly when that person would come around, or who they would be. The only thing that was certain was that their fate and Tiamat’s were inescapably intertwined, so whenever Tiamat began to stir, that meant there was a potential Chosen One out there in the world somewhere. This happened once every few hundred years; Tiamat would stir, and Hecate would find the mortal of that generation who possessed the greatest magical power, and send them on their quest with two godly escorts. That was always how it worked. But they always failed. No Chosen One ever even made it to the first ring. And Tiamat always fell back asleep.”

“But she didn’t for me,” Ethan realized. 

“Even worse—now she is fully awake,” Nut said. “If there was any doubt, Ethan Locke, that you are the true One, they were done away with long ago.”

“Never even made it to the first ring?” Ethan asked, starting to feel queasy with anxiety. “Are you sure?” He didn’t want to be so hung up on this, but he couldn’t help himself. It was a lot to process.

Nut nodded. “One came close,” she said. “The most recent one before you, in fact. Hecate found her in 1700’s Russia, a peasant girl named Masha Kozlov. She held the greatest power anyone had seen in a Chosen One…before you, of course. Her companions were the sun goddess Amaterasu, and my son Horus.”

“But she never made it to the first ring,” Ethan finished.

“Masha made it farther than most,” Nut said. “Thoth translated the Lexicon for her, and her prospects were bright. She and her companions chose to split up, just as you and yours did, but they did it differently. Horus went to slay the hydra, Amaterasu to retrieve the karkadann horn, and Masha to acquire the marmennill scales.” Nut’s expression turned grim. “But she never returned. Vanaheim is a treacherous place for those who do not belong there. Masha disappeared there, and was never seen again. The marmennills report that she never even made it to them.”

Ethan gulped.

“But don’t you see, Ethan Locke?” Nut insisted. “You have made it the farthest of any of Hecate’s Chosen Ones! That alone is indicative of your power. And Tiamat clearly fears you, or she would not have sent Abaddon himself to stop you. You are so much more powerful than you know.” She glanced down at the red sky below them nervously. “And we are running out of time. You must decide now, Ethan Locke.”

There were so many things running through Ethan’s head at that moment. Meeting Nut. Having to save his friends. Forgiving Malina. Past Chosen Ones having existed and died all so that Ethan, of all people, could be standing right there, right then. But, through all those clouding thoughts, one rang through, crystal clear.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

Nut grinned. “Excellent. Let us join then, Ethan Locke.”

“How do we do it?”

She extended her hand. “Take my hand,” she said, “and I will send my power into you. The process is similar to the way you and Babi joined forces to destroy Surtr. But with me…the result will be quite different.”

Ethan took her hand, and, for some reason, felt the urge to ask, “How do you know all these things about people’s lives?”

As soon as he asked, Nut’s hand clenched around his, and he felt unimaginable power coursing through him. Every nerve in his body stood on end, and his heart rate definitely well exceeded that of a normal human. For a brief moment, it felt like Ethan would explode with all the raw energy suddenly pumping through his body. It felt like more than he could handle. Just as his vision began to white out, he heard Nut’s response:

“I see all, Ethan Locke,” she said. “I am the sky itself. And now, you will get to know what that feels like.”

***

Omniscience. 

That was the only word Ethan could use to describe his current state.

He could see everything. He could scan the entire globe in the blink of an eye. All of it, every last grain of sand, every last speck of dust, lay beneath him. It was his responsibility to protect it. He saw that now, and knew it as if it were the only thing that was true. 

The crystal barrier lay beneath Ethan, cutting him off from the mortal world. It cast the earth beneath him in a translucent red glow. He couldn’t quite see the creatures, his subjects, below; it wasn’t transparent enough for that. But he could feel them, sense them as if they were each his own children. Ethan could feel their pain. 

All around the world, mortals suffered beneath their own fear and panic, brought on by the apocalyptic red sky. Chaos and injustice swept from country to country, city to city, as lawmakers struggled and failed to keep the peace. 

It saddened Ethan deeply. He could feel Nut’s consciousness somewhere inside of him, and it saddened her, too. She—he—they loved these mortals more than anything. And now, there was a direct threat to their happiness. It had to be eliminated.

Ethan projected a powerful psychic blast, directly at the barrier. It shuddered, and weakened, but did not break. Angered, Ethan struck it again. He felt it weaken again. But it would not break. Was his power perhaps not great enough?

Ethan opened his ears, and let all of the cries and prayers of the mortals below flow into them. Their pain, and his unmitigable desire to ease it, fueled him with renewed energy. 

He struck again. And all across the world, the barrier cracked with a deafening boom. 

Summoning all of his power, Ethan aimed one last blow directly at the largest crack, situated somewhere over Argentina. Here was the barrier’s weakest point. And here would be its demise.

He struck one last time, and the barrier crumbled. It dissolved beneath his sheer, unmatched strength. The mortals’ fear turned first to confusion, and then to celebration, as they realized that they were freed. Their laughs and cheers and unadulterated expressions of joy were music to Ethan’s ears.

They would never know that he had saved them. But that was alright. For the time being, he had other matters to attend to.

He willed the massive expanse of his newfound global consciousness down into his human form, transporting said form to the Giza plateau. Nut did not leave him when he did. Good. He would need her strength for what came next.

Ethan materialized on the Giza plateau to a gruesome scene. His friends, rather than be killed straightaway, were instead being tortured. Andrew was limp and bloody, barely conscious beneath Set’s hulking frame, having been beaten within an inch of his life. Malina’s torment, however, was more psychological, as Abaddon taunted her with memories of her past.

Ethan roared in anger, and the foursome all noticed him at once. Abaddon’s gleeful smile faded, and Set curled his lip in irritation. Malina and Andrew looked at him in dazed confusion. 

Curling his fists, Ethan spoke. As he did, he heard Nut’s voice speaking beneath his own, as his own voice was multiplied tenfold.

“Release them and perish quickly,” he said. “Refuse, and suffer a long and excruciating end.”

For the first time, Ethan understood what it felt like to be a god. And if he was a god, then he would naturally possess godlike abilities. He would use those abilities to rip Set and Abaddon apart.

Abaddon backed away nervously, but Set, being the god of violence, rose to the challenge without a moment’s hesitation. He stood, and charged Ethan. All Ethan did was raise his hand, and the god froze—literally froze, in a sheet of ice—in place. Ethan had never had control over ice before. Varuna had always told him it was a difficult subset of water magic to master. 

_It is your newfound power,_ Nut whispered from somewhere within him. _You have only just begun unlocking your full potential._

Satisfied, Ethan readied himself to destroy Set into billions of tiny ice shards, never to reform again. 

_No,_ Nut urged. _Spare him. Please. He is my son._

“He must suffer,” Ethan said. “He must be held accountable.”

_And he will be. But please. Show mercy._

Ethan made his choice. He lit his body aflame, and, in an instant, burned hot enough to reduce Set to nothingness, banishing his soul into the Duat. He would reform eventually, yes, but not for a long time. 

_Thank you._

Ethan turned his attention to Abaddon, who attempted to portal out. With a wave of his hand, Ethan closed the portal just as the demon’s foot was in it, severing it at the shin. Abaddon howled in pain, collapsing to the ground. Ethan blinked, and he was next to Abaddon. He first ripped the ring off Abaddon’s finger, and dropped it into his own pocket. Then, Ethan gripped the demon by his throat, and lifted him into the air with a strength he had never before possessed. 

“You are a creature of Hell,” Ethan said. “You understand sin. You know that you have sinned greatly against the gods. For that, you will suffer.”

“Pl—please—you don’t—understand—” Abaddon choked out.

 _Spare him, my hero,_ Nut cut in. _He will yet be useful to you. I promise. His allegiance is to Hell only. But not in a way you would expect._

Ethan wanted her to explain, but she said nothing. And yet, he trusted her judgment. So, he simply spat in the demon’s face, said, “Begone,” and willed Abaddon back to Hell from whence he came.

One last task. He turned to Andrew, knelt down, and said, “Be healed, Anshar. In body, and in spirit.” He touched his finger to Andrew’s forehead, and felt a warmth flow through him as he healed Andrew’s broken body and soul. The god would arise anew, and with reinvigorated drive to fight. 

And, finally, he turned to Malina and said, “I forgive you.”

He didn’t get to see her reaction. The moment he said those words, Ethan felt Nut and her power drain from his body, and, without her strength to keep his body going, he no longer had the energy to stay awake. Combining with a goddess that powerful, and doing the things he had done, had completely drained him. He felt as though he had gone weeks without food or sleep. 

For the second time in as many hours, Ethan blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it! Not much I can really say here. This was the climax of the story. Ethan's finally unlocked his full potential, and while he's definitely a long way from being able to use it, I can promise that he'll no longer be doubting himself and his power. Those days are over. Now, he's just got six more rings to find...
> 
> Next chapter is a wrap-up chapter, and after that, this part of the story is over! Get excited! I know I am!
> 
> Shouldn't be any new pronunciations this chapter because, come on, you should know how to say "Nut."
> 
> Song is, if you didn't already know, "A Sky Full of Stars" by Coldplay. One of my favorite songs by them. 
> 
> Until next time!


	38. Can't Stop Now

Malina’s heart soared with joy when Ethan finally opened his eyes.

She and Andrew had been so terrified that they had a repeat of what had happened in Alfheim on their hands. Ethan had joined with a god again (which god, they weren’t sure of just yet) to shatter the crystal barrier in the sky, and dealt with Set and Abaddon in a display of power Malina had never really though she would see from Ethan. 

When he’d portaled away from Giza, Malina had been so scared that it was the revelation of her past that had driven him away. She was furious at Abaddon for outing her like that, as she had wanted to tell Ethan about it, but on her own time, in her own way. But she’d been powerless to stop it. The look of disgust and contempt Ethan had given her before disappearing…Malina had nearly broken.

In his absence, Set and Abaddon had decided that they would torture and kill Malina first, then pursue Ethan once they were dead. Andrew had suffered immensely at Set’s hands. Malina was no stranger to torture, of course, but she’d been expecting worse from Abaddon than what she got. Still…being reminded of her past like that wasn’t fun. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it still wasn’t pleasant.

Then, all of a sudden, the crystal barrier was gone. A split second later, Ethan was back. But there was something different. Something primal and powerful was within him. 

His eyes were the worst part. They were a pure, milky white, devoid of any soul or humanity. He was judge, jury, and executioner, and passed judgment how he saw fit, regardless of whether it truly fit the crime. And the way his voice had multiplied like that…it had scared Malina shitless. She truly hoped that that wasn’t what Ethan would ultimately become.

But none of that mattered at the moment. Because when Ethan opened his eyes, they were normal again. He was back to normal. They had the ring. Set and Abaddon had been defeated. They’d won.

The second Ethan’s eyes were open, Malina flung herself onto him in a bear hug. “Oh, Ethan, thank the gods! You’re alright. Oh, shit, we were so worried that you’d…that you’d burned yourself up again.”

They were back in the motel room from earlier. It was still rented under Ethan’s name, somehow, so Malina and Andrew had decided to bring Ethan back there, so he could rest and recover. It was a full twelve hours later, and Malina had been so fraught with worry that she hadn’t slept. Ethan was lying on the bed, asleep, with Malina sitting watch in a bedside chair. Andrew was standing by the window, and when he heard Malina’s excitement, his face split open into a giddy grin.

When Malina was done, Andrew had his turn hugging Ethan. Ethan was laughing, hugging them back, and seemed genuinely happy to see them. Malina felt a wave of relief wash over her. For once, everything had worked out okay. They were okay.

“How much do you remember?” Andrew asked. 

“Uh…well…” Ethan’s face scrunched up as he sat up in the bed. “All of it, actually. But it’s weird. In my memories, it’s like I’m…not me. It’s like I’m just watching it happen.”

Malina frowned. “That’s odd. Who did you join with?”

“What?”

“You had to have joined with a god,” she explained. “No offense, but you weren’t that powerful before. Who was it?”

“Oh,” Ethan said. “Nut.”

He explained to them about how he’d deciphered Triglav’s message, and followed it to Nut’s house. That was a relief to Malina; so, he hadn’t been running away from her. Well, maybe he had been, but it wasn’t the primary reason. 

Ethan went on to tell them about how he and Nut had joined together, and how, for a brief moment, Ethan had become the sky itself. Now that was a difficult concept for Malina to wrap her head around. And judging from the way Ethan described it, he still wasn’t fully getting it either. 

Ethan wrapped up his side of the story by telling them about the discussions he’d had with Nut: Isis’s past (Malina got angry every time she thought about what Zeus had done to the other goddess), and how there had been previous Chosen Ones.

“Wait,” Malina said. “Chosen Ones before you? Seriously?”

“You didn’t know?” Ethan asked. “I thought you did.”

Malina shook her head. “Nope.” She turned to Andrew. “Did you?”

Andrew hesitated. “Actually, yes,” he said. “I did.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Ethan exclaimed.

“I didn’t want you to freak out about it,” Andrew reasoned. “Hecate doesn’t make a habit of telling Chosen Ones about that, because it can interfere with the way they approach their duties. Nut shouldn’t have told you at all.” 

“Well, she basically confirmed that I’m the last Chosen One,” Ethan muttered. “Nobody else is coming after me. I’m it.”

“We couldn’t ask for a better one,” Malina said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “The sheer power you displayed back there? It was insane. Tiamat’s gonna think twice about messing with you again.”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah. I did do some pretty cool stuff, didn’t I?” He turned to Andrew. “Like healing you.”

Andrew smiled. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“And—” Ethan turned to Malina, and he didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. She got the message he was trying to silently convey. He’d forgiven her. She’d done some terrible things in her past, that was true. She was still trying to make up for them. But now, Malina didn’t have to worry of what Ethan would think of her. He knew, and still accepted her. She could move forward. It was such a weight off her shoulders.

“—I think I have some cool new tricks,” Ethan finished, realizing that he’d left his sentence hanging. He opened the palm of his hand, and a sheet of ice instantly covered it. Then, the ice burst into flame, and when the fire died, three small balls of light magic were swirling in its place. 

“Incredible,” Andrew said. “Having a goddess as powerful as Nut join with you must have unlocked your full elemental power.”

“I’m assuming that’s good?” Ethan asked, as he kept his eyes on the little balls of light, watching them spin with childlike glee.

“Very good,” Malina confirmed.

“Now you can move on to the next phase of your training,” Andrew said. “The next type of magic you have to learn, that is.”

“Which is?” Ethan asked as he closed his hand, dissolving the balls of light.

“Nature magic,” Andrew said. “Manipulating plants and animals and things like that. If things go well enough, you may even be able to use it to shapeshift.”

Ethan’s eyes widened with excitement. “Wait, no shit? That’s so cool!”

Malina couldn’t help but laugh. Ethan’s good spirits had a way of being infectious, whether you liked it or not. But their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. All three of them turned towards the door in confusion. 

“Should we answer that?” Ethan asked. 

“Are we expecting anyone?” Malina countered.

“It could just be motel staff,” Andrew said. “I’ll get it.”

He crossed over to the door, unlatched it, and opened it up, but not enough so that Malina could see who was outside. She craned her neck to see, but no luck; Andrew was in the way. She heard him say something in a surprised tone, and then he stepped back. “We have guests,” he said.

Malina watched as Isis and Ouranos entered the room. Her eyes widened. A visit from Isis wasn’t all that surprising; Hecate had likely sent her daughter to get the ring from Ethan. But from Ouranos? He was the co-founder of the Chevaliers, along with Hecate, and had helped her oversee the making—and subsequent hiding—of the seven rings. She’d never met him in person before, but she knew what he looked like enough to recognize him immediately. According to some of the other gods, it was a great honor to meet him. She figured she should stand, so she did.

“Lord Ouranos,” Andrew said respectively, grabbing a chair and pulling it over. “Please, have a seat.”

Ouranos waved his hand. “No need, Anshar,” he said good-naturedly. “I am not here on business. Purely for pleasure. I will not be long.”

He didn’t look like he was here for pleasure, Malina thought. Ouranos was naturally regal-looking, with shining olive-colored skin and highbrow facial features that radiated kingliness. He was dressed in a sky-blue business suit, and his black hair was neatly gelled into place. Isis didn’t look any different than she had three months ago when Malina had met her in Hecate’s palace—she still wore a floor-length white linen dress, with her black hair pulled back in a bun and her tyet necklace on.

“If you don’t mind, Anshar, I’ll take the chair,” Isis said. 

Andrew stepped back, gesturing towards it. “By all means.” She sat, thanking him. Ouranos stepped forward to Ethan, who was still sitting in the bed, looking around in confusion.

“Uh…not to be rude or anything, but who are you again?” Ethan asked, gazing up at Ouranos. “I must have misheard Andrew when he said it, because it sounded like—”

“Ouranos,” the god said, his brow furrowing slightly. “You heard Anshar correctly. Why? Does my true identity concern you?”

“Um…” was Ethan’s only response. He was starting to get that panicked look in his eyes again, the one Malina was all too familiar with. Someone had to interfere before his brain-to-mouth filter short-circuited and he said the wrong thing.

Malina was about to say something when Ouranos spoke up. “Rise, Ethan Locke. Let me see you.”

Ethan did as he was told, though he looked nervous about it. He got up out of the bed and stood in front of Ouranos.

The god looked him over. “Strong definition,” he mused. “And a fighting spirit. That is good. I must say, Hecate chose well. And fortunately, as well.” Ouranos smiled. “For better or for worse, you are our final Chosen One, Ethan Locke. I am confident you will do well.”

Ethan gulped. “That’s what people seem to be telling me these days.”

Ouranos chuckled. “And a sense of humor, too. Rare, but welcomed.”

“I’ve heard that before, too.”

“Hmm,” Ouranos grunted in response. His brow furrowed up again, and he examined Ethan in silence for a few moments before saying: “Something bothers you, my boy. Something about me. What is it?”

“I—” Ethan glanced over at Andrew, then at Malina, giving them that deer-in-the-headlights look. Malina wanted to do something, but she and Andrew both knew—they were powerless to help. Ouranos had asked him a question. He had to answer it.

“It’s okay,” Ouranos said reassuringly. “You may speak your mind freely around me, Ethan Locke. I promise you—I will not be offended.”

“O—Okay,” Ethan said, sounding unsure. “It’s just that…I was, well, kidnapped. A few months back. By the Furies. And aren’t they—”

“My daughters,” Ouranos said, nodding, finally understand what Ethan’s hang-up was. Malina knew, too. Ouranos had a bad rep in the mortal version of the ancient Greek myths. But, as with most mortal myths, the only thing they knew were the actions, not the intent behind them; and if there was any intent, it had been rewritten by the victors, and was usually not at all accurate.

But that wasn’t Malina’s job to explain. It was Ouranos’s. 

“It is true,” Ouranos said. “My ex-wife Gaia and I bore many children, and very few of them turned out to be forces of good. This, however, is due to their mother’s influence. Mother Earth, as you know her, is not as benevolent as her version of things would have mortals believe.” The god sighed. “I loved her, and my children. I truly did. But, alas, even before the Chaos War occurred, they supported her rise to power, whereas I did not. I was forced to be a harsher patriarch than I would have liked to keep them in line. Gaia did not like that, so she manipulated my son Cronus and his brothers into killing me, so they could take my place and facilitate Tiamat’s war efforts.”

“Oh,” Ethan said quietly.

“Oh, indeed,” Ouranos agreed with a small smile. “It took me far too long to reform, and by the time I had, not only had Gaia remarried to Tartarus—that foul, vile, spirit of the Pit beneath the world—” Malina tried to contain her laughter at the fact that apparently, even primordial beings were susceptible to jealousy towards exes “—but had also bore a new race of giants with him, and had sent them to fight alongside Tiamat to tear down the gods—my grandchildren.”

“Wow,” Ethan said. “I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you. It’s just—”

“It’s quite alright, Ethan Locke,” Ouranos insisted. “Really. Suffice it to say, however, Gaia and I don’t speak much these days. And I have always supported the gods in their battles against chaos, unlike the majority of the rest of my family. Now that the second Chaos War is fast approaching on the horizon—” he frowned “—I have elected to take on a more official role in keeping Tiamat’s forces at bay.”

“Ouranos has teamed up with a squadron of other gods to enter the Duat to fight the forces of chaos on their home turf,” Isis explained. “He and my mother believe that doing so will help keep Tiamat’s armies down just long enough for the three of you to find the other six rings.”

Ouranos nodded. “Yes, indeed. At least, that is the hope.”

His statement hung in the air for a little too long. Fortunately, Andrew broke the silence like he always did—by sucking up. He was instantly at Ouranos’s side, shaking the god’s hand vigorously. Malina rolled her eyes. 

“Even so, that is incredibly brave of you, Lord Ouranos,” Andrew said. “I wish you and these other gods the best of luck, truly.”

Ouranos smiled and politely withdrew his hand from Andrew’s. “Many thanks, Anshar.” He turned back to Ethan, and clapped his hands onto Ethan’s shoulders with a broad grin on his face. “We depart shortly, of course, but I wanted to meet Hecate’s final Chosen One in person before I left. I thought perhaps it would bring me some peace of mind that we are in good hands.”

“I hope it did,” Ethan said meekly, obviously still intimidated in the presence of such a powerful god. Malina could relate.

Ouranos smiled, the smallest of twinkles in his eye. “It did, Ethan Locke. It most certainly did.”

He whirled around to face Isis. “Now! I believe my lady Isis has some business to attend to, and then we can depart for Hecate’s palace. And you three—” he pointed around at all three of them “—can start your rest and relaxation period.”

Malina’s eyes widened, as a grin split across Ethan’s face and confusion rippled across Andrew’s. Even Isis balked at the god’s statement. “My Lord,” she said, standing, “I thought that my mother discussed this with you. At this time, it is inadvisable—”

“Nonsense,” Ouranos said with a wave of his hand. “These three are heroes. Together, they have accomplished what no other Chosen One and their entourage ever have before. They deserve a few days of rest.” He turned to Malina and winked.

“But, my Lord—” Isis protested.

“I will hear no more of it, Isis!” Ouranos exclaimed, crossing the room to stand next to her and face Ethan, Malina, and Andrew. “Our heroes—the Chosen Three, if you will,” he added with a laugh, “have earned it. You may tell your mother that I myself authorized it, if you desire. She will not fight with me on it. I know it.” He grinned at the group. “Does a week sound reasonable to the three of you?”

Malina would have preferred a whole month, but she’d take what she could get. “Of course, Lord Ouranos,” she said with a smile. “It sounds lovely.”

“There you have it,” Ouranos said, as if the matter was closed. But the look he gave Isis very explicitly stated that it was. “Now, my lady Isis, if you could please attend to your business so we may depart, and our heroes may get on with their—erm, how do the mortals say it? R&R? TLC? B&B?”

Isis rolled her eyes, and stepped forward to Ethan, holding out her hand. “Ethan Locke,” she said simply, “my mother has sent me to retrieve the ring from you.”

Ethan paled, and his hand instinctively went to his pocket. “Really? But I—I thought I keep it, I mean—” He faltered, and probably realized he was sounding stupid. “Isn’t it mine?” he finished nonetheless, looking around the room nervously.

Malina was prepared for Isis to get irritated and snap at Ethan, but instead, the goddess gave him a sympathetic look. “The ring calls to you, does it not?”

Ethan nodded sheepishly, and finally, Malina realized what had happened to him back in the pyramid when they’d first entered the ring chamber. It made sense, of course—the rings were items of immense power, and were ultimately meant to be wielded by Ethan. They would naturally call out to him, begging him to put them on, which explained the trance he’d gone into when he had first set eyes on the box. Malina just hoped that that didn’t happen every time they found a ring; they didn’t need more repeats of the Set situation.

“It’s alright,” Isis said reassuringly. “I know it is difficult to part with it. But you cannot be permitted to carry it around with you. Its power will call out to any creature of chaos within a hundred miles, and they will not stop hounding you until they have killed you to get it.” She frowned. “In fact, it is a miracle you have not yet already been attacked. The sooner it is in Hecate’s possession, the better. She will keep it safe. That is a promise—from both her, and myself.”

Ethan glanced over at Malina. She could tell he was asking her silently for advice. She looked him dead in the eyes and sent him the message, Trust her. She’s right. 

Slowly but reluctantly, Ethan nodded. “Okay.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. Its ruby glittered brilliantly in the sunlight streaming through the window. Ethan hesitated, taking a deep breath, before dropping it into Isis’s hands.

The goddess immediately conjured up a small leather pouch to place it in, which disappeared with a wave of her hands. “Thank you, Ethan Locke,” Isis said, smiling at him with understanding. “It is much appreciated.”

Ouranos clapped his hands together, startling Malina. She’d almost forgotten he was there. “Excellent! We are finished here, then. Come, Isis—let us return to your mother’s palace. I have some preparations to do before trekking into the Duat.”

Isis nodded, and waved her arms. A crackling portal appeared on the wall, and Ouranos was about to disappear into it when Andrew cried out, “Wait!”

Everyone turned to him. “Yes, Anshar?” Ouranos asked quizzically. “What is it?”

“Where do we go next?” he asked. “You haven’t told us.” Malina’s eyes widened as she realized he was right. If Ouranos and Isis had left before any of them had remembered, then they would have been completely lost. 

“Ah, yes, of course,” Ouranos said. “When your relaxation period is up, seek out the god Vindonnus in Ireland. He will direct you to where you must go next.”

“Okay,” Andrew said, sounding relieved. “We’ll do that. Thank you, my lord.”

Ouranos smiled one last time, and then stepped forward and into the portal. Isis was about to follow him when, this time, Ethan interrupted with a, “Oh, Isis, wait!”

She turned towards him, visibly irritated. “Yes, Ethan Locke? What is it?”

“Um…well, this might sound like a weird request,” Ethan said. “But could you send a picture of yourself to your mom? Not Hecate, but Nut.”

Isis’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What? Why?”

Ethan shrugged. “No reason, really. I just really think she’d appreciate it.”

Isis’s expression softened. “Very well. An easy task.” She looked around at the three of them accusingly. “Anyone else have something to say before I go? This portal won’t stay open forever.”

Malina shook her head. “You’re all good, bird-brain.”

Isis glared at her before stepping through the portal. It shimmered and disappeared behind her. And, just like that, the three of them were alone in the motel room.

Ethan broke the silence. “Well! I, for one, would love to get to explore more of Cairo. But could we maybe upgrade living conditions first?” he asked, looking around at the musty room in distaste. “Not that I don’t love this place. It’s just, well…it smells a little like asbestos, doesn’t it?”

Andrew grinned. “Of course. The finest hotel in all of Cairo, Ethan, just for you.”

Ethan laughed and shoved Andrew playfully. “Shut up, sky god.”

“And who’s to say we’re limited to Cairo?” Malina said, stepping forward to take her place between the two boys, throwing one arm over each of their shoulders. “We have a whole week. We could spend that time wherever we want. Where have you always wanted to go?”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “Copenhagen? I’ve always wanted to do that thing where you find those six giant statues in the woods around the city. You know the ones I mean, right?”

Andrew arched an eyebrow. “You mean the six forgotten giants?”

Ethan snapped his fingers. “Yeah! Those.”

Andrew waved his hand. “That’s a total tourist trap. They’re just a glorified scavenger hunt. Why not visit someplace with culture, like Venice? We could take a gondola down the Grand Canal, see the sights—”

Ethan snorted. “Oh, you wanna talk tourist traps?”

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty,” Malina interrupted. “We have seven whole days, remember? I see no reason why we can’t do both.”

Ethan punched the air, excited, and bounded towards the door. “Copenhagen first!”

Andrew frowned. “Why Copenhagen first? Venice is so much more relaxing, and you heard Ouranos, we need some relaxation.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Falling asleep on some gondola isn’t my idea of a good time, Andrew. Sorry to break it to you.”

“Oh, and traipsing around the woods looking for some overrated statues is any better?”

They kept arguing, but Malina was no longer listening. Something nagging had caught on her, and suddenly, all she could do was worry. She was thinking about how, even though she’d advertised it as such, seven days really wasn’t that long. In just one week, the three of them would be back on the road, fighting for their lives against the forces of chaos. And, now that they had the first ring, it would only get harder from there. Tiamat wouldn’t underestimate them again.

And, of course, thinking about the quest got Malina thinking again about the prophecy she’d received in Vanaheim. She could still remember every word of it, the haunting lines imprinted onto her memory like a tattoo. It deeply unsettled her, and she hated thinking about it, but she couldn’t seem to stop.

_The sun shall be swallowed by the brethren of the moon…_

Malina shook her head, forcing herself out of these dark thoughts. Ethan and Andrew’s voices faded back in.

“—take a proper tour,” Andrew was saying. “The Sphinx and the pyramids are such pivotal works of architecture. We would be remiss not to at least properly visit them before leaving Cairo.”

Ethan sighed. “No offense, Andrew, but I’ve honestly had enough of the pyramids.”

“The Sphinx, then,” Andrew insisted. “We can do it today. That leaves us six days to split evenly between Copenhagen and Venice.” He glanced back at Malina, as if suddenly remembering she was there. “Unless…Malina wants to go somewhere, too?”

Malina shrugged. “I hear Tokyo is nice this time of year.”

“Fine,” Ethan cut in. “We’ll visit the stupid Sphinx today. Then two days in each place. But—” he stressed “—Copenhagen first.”

Andrew groaned. “Fine! Fine. We’ll go to Copenhagen first.”

Malina couldn’t help but chuckle. She knew Andrew was putty in Ethan’s hands, even though Ethan didn’t know that. 

Ethan grinned. “Awesome. But hey, before we head out to the Sphinx, could we stop by some grocery store uptown? I have a promise to keep.” His grin turned to a frown. “I hope Egypt carries Aristaeus’s honey.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, slung his satchel over his shoulder, and crossed past Ethan to open the door. “Knowing Aristaeus, I’m sure it’s all over the world. And if not, you don’t have a deadline on when you have to buy it, do you? You can get it whenever you happen to see it somewhere.”

Ethan shrugged as he began to follow Andrew out of the room. “Well, yeah, but it’s an oath on the Styx. I’d rather not risk anything, you know?”

Malina didn’t hear Andrew’s response; he was already out of the room. Ethan stopped in the doorway, and turned to her. “Hey, Malina? You coming?”

Malina looked up at him. She hadn’t even realized she was still standing in the center of the room, still lost in thought in the back of her mind, fretting over the prophecy. But she put on a happy face, said, “Yeah, of course I am,” and followed Ethan out of the room.

As she shut the door behind her, and trailed behind the still-arguing boys down the hall, Malina took a look at them and couldn’t contain her smile. _Prophecy be damned,_ she thought. There was no use stressing over the different possibilities the future could take. It would happen when it happened, and she would deal with it when the time was right.

And besides—she had two incredible friends by her side, both of whom had forgiven her and her past, and who she knew would stick with her no matter. No matter what the world, the gods, or even Tiamat herself decided to throw at the three of them next, they would overcome it. That much, Malina knew for certain.

For better or for worse, it was the three of them against the world. And Malina didn’t want it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand that's a wrap, folks! God, it feels so good having finally gotten to the end of this thing. Our heroes have won the day, and are stronger than ever before. It's the type of happy, hopeful ending that could only ever come at the end of the first installment of any great saga.
> 
> Of course, while this is the end, it's not the END end. Like I keep saying, there's still six more rings out there, just waiting to be found. And Malina's right when she says that it'll only get harder from here. Our heroes' journey is still FAR from over, and I, for one, can't wait to see where it takes them next (I'm only kidding. I 100% know where it will take them. But you don't! And isn't that part of the excitement??). 
> 
> I know this story didn't get much traction on here while I was writing it, but I do know that I had a few people who were reading along (if the slowly-increasing hit count was any indication, after all), and although y'all never really interacted with me (you should!! I'd love it!!), I still have to thank you for validating me enough to continue this. I probably would have continued it regardless, sure, but sometimes it's the silent support of anonymous readers that keeps me posting the installments on here. So, really, if you're one of those people, thank you. And, of course, to all my future readers who may or may not have found this--welcome, and thank you, too! I hope everyone enjoyed this, and I can't wait to set course with y'all to travel alongside our heroes to find the second ring (even though I admittedly have no idea when that will happen; hopefully soon!).
> 
> Anyway, as always, new pronunciations:  
> Ouranos = OW-ren-os (with the "os" pronounced like the "os" in "host")
> 
> And, of course, the song title is "Can't Stop Now" by Keane.
> 
> And finally...even though I have no idea when it will be...until next time!


End file.
